


adieu to you, too

by seizethejongdae



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Photographer, Fluff, Language, M/M, potentially bad French
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 12:30:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 33,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15630723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seizethejongdae/pseuds/seizethejongdae
Summary: They met in Paris under a sky painted blue and pink for work. One modeled while the other took pictures. One fell in love and the other did the same.





	1. Chapter 1

"Do you know what you have to do?" Jessica asked.

"Yeah, I do," Jongdae said.

An answer given while he looked anywhere but his boss.

He should've paid more attention to her, but he couldn’t help but stare at the roof of the hotel restaurant. Golden wood frames separated the ceiling into segments, each panel painted to reflect an afternoon sky with wispy clouds.

“Look at me,” Jessica said, preferring to snap her fingers at him instead of raising her voice. Jongdae flicked his gaze back towards her, not wanting to piss off the person who paid him, who could easily fire him from the fashion magazine he worked for. The magazine she edited.

But it took every bit of his concentration not to let his attention stray far again. He had never been to a hotel this luxurious, a restaurant this ornate before. Work did have its perks, it seemed, despite its demanding schedule. 

“Listen,” Jessica tried again, tapping a manicured nail against the silk tablecloth, “This is a high-profile event, so we can’t afford to print bad pictures. I need you at your best. Or _else_.”

She slowly slid a finger across her neck, but Jongdae was unfazed. This was by no means the first time she’d threatened him, and it would not be the last. Jongdae remembered the first time he had started his job as a photographer for one of the most respected fashion magazines in the world, constantly terrified of being fired by her. Years later, he was still here, so he was sure Jessica would only fire him if he made a serious mistake.

And Jongdae did not make mistakes.

Not yet at least.

“When have I ever taken bad pictures? You wouldn’t have hired me or kept me if you didn’t think I was good,” Jongdae said, picking up his porcelain cup to take a sip of his morning coffee. He found himself holding his breath until he set it back down on the table. The cup’s stem was millimeters wide, and if he wasn’t careful, he could snap it with a finger. 

“I’m _trusting_ you with this, Jongdae. I could’ve sent anyone else, but I chose you. Prove to me I didn’t make a mistake,” Jessica said, glaring at Jongdae for emphasis.

Jongdae had only stared at the cup for one second, tracing the twisting lilac pattern with a finger before his attention had wandered again. Around the room, waiters in meticulously pressed uniforms bustled around the space, tending to customers who were seated in golden chairs with blue, floral cushions. A collection of pastries rested in the display case a few meters away from their table. Jongdae wished he had a chance to try every single one of them, from macaron to macaroon, croissant to courtesan au chocolat. 

“Don’t worry, Jessica. I’ll take proper pictures. I’m the best photographer you know,” Jongdae finally said. 

He’d been excited when Jessica had told him she was sending him overseas with her to document fashion week, but he wished he could’ve stayed more than a few days.

“Good,” Jessica said, cutting her slice of honeydew in two. Before she took a bite, she pointed her knife at Jongdae. “And cancel your plans tomorrow, too.” 

 “ _What_?” Jongdae asked so loudly that the people around him turned to stare. He paused for a moment, waiting until the eyes looked away before he continued speaking, his voice dropped into a harsh whisper. “I’ve already planned my whole day tomorrow.” 

Jongdae needed to know how his future would progress. All his schedules, his appointments, his shoots were scheduled months in advance. Today’s job was scheduled half a year ago. Tomorrow’s plans were scheduled months ago. And tomorrow, he was supposed to go sightseeing. Eiffel Tower in the morning. Café hopping in the afternoon. Shopping around the streets during the evening. Eating at a restaurant he couldn’t quite afford at night.

None of this…this extra, unplanned work.

“This is a business trip, Jongdae,” Jessica said between bites of her fruit, “as long as you’re here with me, you’re a photographer. Not a tourist.” 

“All tourists are photographers,” Jongdae argued, struggling to keep the pout on his face from sinking into a scowl.  He hated having new plans sprung upon him with such short notice. Like this one.  

“Not all tourists work for my magazine,” Jessica said, picking up her phone to scroll through her many notifications. 

Jongdae slid down his seat for a moment, filling the silence with muttered complaints before he let out a long, exaggerated sigh. 

“Do I get paid triple for this at least?” Jongdae asked. 

“Of course not,” Jessica said, typing a message on her phone before looking back at Jongdae, “but it’s a front cover shoot with a rising model. I can’t let just anybody do it, and the original photographer canceled last minute. I sent you a memo earlier this morning, but it’s obvious you haven’t read it yet.” 

“ _Fine_ ,” Jongdae grumbled, picking up his camera bag and hoisting it over his shoulder. “I’m leaving before you tell me my plans three months from now are ruined, too.” 

“Who even plans that far into the future?” Jessica asked, reaching into her designer bag and pulling out a lanyard, “Here’s your press pass for today’s event.” 

“Thanks,” Jongdae said, hanging it around his neck before he could lose it. 

“Meet me after you’re done,” Jessica added. 

Jongdae left before he could say that _he_ was the one who planned that far in the future. He was the one who already had his months booked, his weeks completely full. 

As he headed towards the exit, he passed by more deep blue walls, golden doors, and ornately decorated hallways. After almost getting lost a few times, Jongdae finally reached the lobby. As the doorman smoothly opened the glass doors, Jongdae thanked him. A moment later, he stepped onto a busy street, listened to the rush of the cars, watched the blur of motorcycles that sped past him. 

Took a deep breath. 

And smiled. 

 _Paris._

Too bad Jongdae was here, halfway across the world in this beautiful city, and he couldn’t even properly enjoy it. Too bad today was wasted on work instead of relaxing, tomorrow on more work instead of sightseeing. And too bad he was only here for four days and four days only.

But work was work, so Jongdae hailed a taxi and stepped instead without any further complaint. 

“The Louvre, please,” he told the driver before leaning on the closed door and watching the streets and sights pass by. Ancient buildings towered above him, and countless people, countless faces strolled on the streets. Jongdae counted one…three…ten and many more cafés where people sat outside under umbrellas sipping tiny coffees.

After they turned a corner, Jongdae pressed his face closer to the glass as the Eiffel Tower loomed in the distance. He rolled down the window, pulling out his phone to snap a few pictures. 

For the rest of the ride, Jongdae assembled his camera, made sure his press pass was visible, and triple checked that everything was in order. He didn’t want to explain to Jessica why he couldn’t access the venue, why he was unable to take any good pictures after all. 

The taxi slowed to a stop minutes later, Jongdae’s cue to thank the driver and hand him some money. Too in a rush to wait for the change, he hurried out, camera carefully held with both hands and his bag bouncing on his shoulder. 

As he crossed the street, the glass pyramids of the Louvre in sight, Jongdae peered curiously at the crowds that already gathered. Some people as young as teenagers waited and craned their necks while others checked their phones. Everyone was murmuring, looking around…but for what? Waiting for what? 

After being directed by a security guard to the press’ area, Jongdae checked his camera settings and considered asking Jessica what was the difference between him and the paparazzi in circumstances like this. But he could guess her answer.

 _These people actually want to be photographed at these events, Jongdae. You don’t wear those clothes and do your makeup like that and not want to be looked at._

Sure enough, the first guests arrived, wearing bold dresses and suits, their hair perfectly styled, their makeup flawless. Jongdae didn’t hesitate to strike uncomfortable poses and twist his body into unnatural angles for that perfect shot. That’s why Jessica liked booking him for these events. Self-esteem and dignity meant nothing if he could take the best photo. 

A few more guests arrived, none Jongdae thought were worth waiting for if he were honest. The crowd seemed to think the same, looking away after they saw who was posing for the cameras. 

After no one else seemed to be arriving, Jongdae scanned through the previews to check his work so far. Not bad. But he’d still have to delete a few photos that looked like duplicates and others that he wasn’t satisfied with. 

Sudden screaming caused Jongdae to snap his head up, startled by the shrill sounds. He was grateful he was standing with the press as he watched the crowd shift, everyone pushing past each other to snatch a closer look at something. But at what? 

At who? 

Jongdae looked through his camera lenses, prepared to take the clearest shot he had. But it was impossible to see anything but fans on the verge of crying and phones raised to take pictures of the new guest. Finally, Jongdae saw the back of someone’s head… a man struggling to wade through the crowd despite the security that attempted to push everyone aside. 

 _Who’s that boy?_ Jongdae wondered to himself. 

It seemed the French media and paparazzi wondered the same, as they shouted question after question at him. All left unanswered.

At last, the man broke free of the crowd and walked straight forwards. Someone signaled at him to pause for pictures, stopping him in his tracks. When the man turned, Jongdae for the first time in his entire career, almost let his expensive camera slip from his fingers and shatter on the floor. 

Jongdae lowered the camera from his face and stared, admiring striking eyebrows, neatly parted hair, and a stylish outfit. 

And then he noticed those pink lips. 

That soft smile. 

That lovely, soft smile. 

Jongdae didn’t consider himself overly superficial, but first impressions were important to him. When he was younger, he first saw Baekhyun across the classroom loudly singing and wanted to be his friend. And so they were. When he was older, he first saw Jessica stride across the room with her head held up high surrounded by assistants and wanted to work for her. And so he did. 

And now? Now as he stared, as his heart pounded against his chest, as he took his first look at this man, Jongdae imagined for a split second what it would be like to love someone as beautiful as that. 

Jongdae barely managed to snap himself out of his daze and fumble with his camera in time to take pictures as the man started posing. He slowly exhaled and focused, capturing every single smile, every single movement. 

Jongdae was a skilled photographer, so there was no need for him to continually snap pictures like a common paparazzi and hope one out of fifty pictures was good. But with this man? Jongdae had no shame and didn’t care if his camera roll was filling up by the hundreds. 

After the man disappeared inside the Louvre for the show, Jongdae took another deep breath and tried to recover. He didn’t understand why such a brief appearance had caused his pulse to race and his cheeks to flush. Perhaps he should’ve worn something lighter today, as the weather felt especially hot now. This was his excuse anyways. 

Jongdae missed the next guest appearance completely because he was still staring into nowhere, clutching his camera like a fool. Pity the guest who had arrived next because all the photographers and journalists murmured to themselves, too distracted to pay anyone else any attention. 

“Do you know who he was?” 

“I don’t know.”

“Do you?” 

“I don’t. But if he’s got the crowd going like that…then he must be bigger than everyone else here.” 

There was no other way to say it. That person was bigger than the whole event, and it took all of Jongdae’s willpower to stay and take a few more pictures of the rest of the arrivals even though he wanted nothing more than to rush inside and find that man again. 

Someone who looked like that…who smiled like that…could not be real. 

Right? 

Jongdae had photographed countless models before, but never had he seen someone who looked like _that_. Did Aphrodite kiss his cheeks to paint them the dustiest rose? Or did she turn away from him in scorn because he was more beautiful than anything she'd ever seen? More beautiful than anything she'd ever hope to look like? Did Apollo place the light in his eyes? Or did he vow revenge on the man who stole his sun and hid it in his smile? 

Jongdae shook his head. 

Work. 

 _Work._  

He was here for work. 

Not for tourism. Not for sightseeing. And certainly not for stargazing. 

A guard soon led the rest of the press inside the Louvre, guiding them to a security check point when it was time. After having his camera scanned, Jongdae followed a new attendant who repeated some rules he’d already heard. 

He then entered a room with dim lighting, finding seats arranged in front of the paintings on the wall. All the guests were mingling, the organizers frantically rushing back and forth, and the attendants showing newer guests their seats. Ambient music blasted in the background, and soft spotlights hung above the art. Jongdae took a few pictures to test the lighting and make any adjustments if needed. But he couldn’t find the man from earlier. 

The models of the Louis Vuitton fashion show would walk through a few rooms, twisting around statues, looping around the _Mona Lisa_ , and walk back to the main room. Jongdae settled into the press area of the first room for maximum photo opportunity. 

After a few more moments of waiting, the lights flickered a few times before the room plunged into darkness. Spotlights switched on one by one while someone spoke a few words over the speakers. The lights then traced a swirling pattern on the floors and walls, forming pictures of iconic paintings and sculptures housed in the Louvre before spelling out its opening message in different languages.

 

_Welcome_

Then the room faded into darkness before a few blue lights crept along the floor, marking the runway’s path. The first models stepped out from a curtain and strode down the path, staring straight ahead. They didn’t stop to pose, so Jongdae timed his shots, keeping his finger ready as he focused and waited for the perfect shot.

But Jongdae was a photographer, not a fashion connoisseur, and there were only so many outfits he could be shown until his attention wandered again. He took a pause as he waited for the next model to appear and looked around.

His mistake. 

The second he started watching the crowd was the second he spotted a familiar guest sitting in the front.

It was also the second he had to remind himself to breathe, the second the lens of his camera began straying away from the models, the second his finger began moving on its own. And before Jongdae knew it, there he was taking pictures of the man. 

Jongdae had no idea how the man could look more beautiful than all the other models with their dramatic makeup, but he didn’t question it. Even when the man was just sitting, he seemed to be posing effortlessly, which made Jongdae sure that all the photos he was currently taking would turn out perfect. He took a few extra dozen pictures before remembering he was here for work and reluctantly turned his focus back to the show. 

After another fifteen minutes full of future fashion trends, guests recording everything for their social media stories, and countless pictures, the show ended. Jongdae hastily disassembled his camera and safely packed it in his bag before looking around, wanting to find the man to at least ask for his name. But he was soon swept up in the crowd, the press surging forwards to interview some guests while others looked towards the exit for the reception and that after party that Jongdae had no desire of attending. 

After Jongdae managed to fight against the stream of people leaving and make his way to where the man had been sitting, there was nothing but an empty seat. Jongdae searched the crowd for another minute before giving up and heading for the exit. 

He was here for work, and he should remember that. 

Work and work only. 

Not to admire the art. 

…And the other paintings and sculptures in the museum, he guessed. 

Outside the venue, the crowd had returned, obviously waiting for another chance to see the man. Jongdae checked the time and reluctantly crossed the street to find a taxi. Jessica had wanted to meet in fifteen minutes, and she wouldn’t appreciate his tardiness. 

Ten minutes later, Jongdae arrived at the café where Jessica was waiting for him. She had chosen an outside table, sitting underneath a large umbrella and wearing in a new outfit. This morning’s sundress was replaced with a white suit, a stylish sun hat, and large sunglasses. 

“How was it?” Jessica asked once Jongdae took a seat in front of her. 

“Hello to you, too,” Jongdae said, carefully setting his camera bag down beside him, “It was good.” 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Jessica nodded, “Can I see the photos you’ve taken? Sunyoung is working on the article for this, so I want to advise her on which photos to choose.” 

Jongdae pulled out his camera, switched it to preview mode, and handed it to Jessica. He’d normally hesitate before giving anyone his camera, but he could trust Jessica with anything. Perhaps not with his life, but with his camera at the very least. 

As she took her time scrutinizing every angle, every pixel, Jongdae ordered a sandwich from a waiter and connected to the café’s wifi to search for the man’s name. He didn’t suppose google searches of _the most beautiful man I’d ever seen in my whole entire life_ or _the star of the Louis Vuitton show_ or _a man who puts the sun to shame_ would actually work. 

But after a few seconds of searching, Jongdae found him. Multiple articles about the man had already been released, informing Jongdae of how he unsurprisingly trended number one worldwide for his brief appearance outside the Louvre. 

Jongdae was frozen, staring at the pictures that the articles used, so it took him a good minute before he finally scrolled down for that name. 

Oh Sehun. 

Sehun. 

Now he had a name to the face, a reason for the blush on his cheeks, and a different way to call the sun and stars.  

Jongdae agreed with everything the article listed about Sehun. Sehun had been named Louis Vuitton’s Best Dressed Man, but Jongdae wondered where was Sehun’s title for World’s Most Beautiful Boy. Honestly, if magazines ranked celebrities every year in terms of beauty, then Jongdae wanted to know what they were doing naming people who weren’t S—

“Jongdae,” Jessica said, her curt tone causing him to look up from his phone to wonder what he had done. 

“…Yes?” Jongdae asked. He remembered adjusting the lighting for each setting, and he had checked a few previews himself, so she couldn’t have found a problem with the photos. Right? 

Jessica’s lips hadn’t sunk into a frown yet, so he couldn’t be in that much trouble. Or at least trouble that would end with him suspended, fired, or worse…demoted to her personal assistant. 

“Do you want to explain to me why there are at least a thousand pictures of this same person in your camera roll?” she asked, turning Jongdae’s camera around, the screen displaying a preview of Sehun outside the Louvre as he smiled and waved at the crowd. 

Jongdae had a few answers, but the first that came to his mind, _because he’s fucking beautiful_ , would not satisfy Jessica. 

“Because he’s Louis Vuitton’s Best Dressed Man,” Jongdae said instead, almost surprised with how quickly he had managed to make such a realistic and convincing excuse, “So we should have a whole separate article about him. It’d be a pity to squeeze just a tiny mention of him in our article.” 

“But you didn’t know that when you took these pictures,” Jessica said, swiveling the camera back around to continue looking through Jongdae’s work. 

“Yes I absolutely did,” Jongdae said, crossing his arms over his chest, “I took one look at him with my own two eyes, heard the way the crowd screamed at him, and knew. Capital K. _Knew_.” 

“Really,” Jessica flatly said, raising an eyebrow ever so slightly. 

“Come on,” Jongdae said, pausing a moment to thank the waiter who placed his sandwich in front of him, “A person who effortlessly commands that much attention and looks that good? There’s Louis Vuitton’s Best Dressed Man. I’m ahead of the curve, and all those other photographers probably wished they snagged a few extra photos of him. You’re welcome.” 

“It’s a good thing you’re as good as taking pictures as you are talking,” Jessica said, lowering her gaze back to the camera, satisfied with Jongdae’s response for now. 

Jongdae gave her a dazzling smile in response and began eating his sandwich. As he took his first bite, he lifted his chin up to pull the long strings of warm, melting cheese. It was only until he had devoured half of the sandwich did he realize he had been so hungry. He'd taken another big bite of his food when what Jessica said next caused him to almost choke. 

“ _What_?” Jongdae almost yelled, causing the waiter to look at them in alarm. He continued to let out a series of coughs as Jessica watched, unamused. 

"Wait, wait, wait…say that...again?" Jongdae asked after gulping down some water in an attempt to recover. 

“For someone who’s so concerned with every detail of your future, I’m really surprised you still haven’t read the memo I sent to you about tomorrow’s job,” Jessica said, letting out a soft laugh. 

“No…say that again?” Jongdae said, leaning across the table, remembering to keep his voice at an acceptable volume as the waiter eyed him warily. When was he possibly going to find the time and mental strength to read that memo or do anything after who he had seen today? 

"I _said,"_ Jessica sighed as she adjusted her sunglasses, "it seems that you'll be more than enough prepared for tomorrow’s photoshoot since Sehun's the model." 

"Sehun?" Jongdae loudly said, "As in Oh Sehun the model from today?" 

"Sehun," Jessica said. Jongdae couldn’t see her expression from behind those sunglasses, but he could guess from the way she shook her head at him, laid his camera on the table, and folded her arms across her chest. "As in Oh Sehun the man you took too many photos of. I could've mistaken you as a simple paparazzi after seeing all the photos of him in the same position at the show.” 

"Oh my god," Jongdae said. The remnants of his sandwich began to slip out of his hands. 

"At least we know there won't be a shortage of pictures tomorrow," Jessica said, pausing to take a sip of her coffee, "that's for sure."

Jongdae blankly stared, waiting for her to tell him that she was joking. But Jessica rarely joked, so that couldn't be.

"I don't think I have to remind you to do your best because it's a high-profile shoot," Jessica continued speaking, "and since the pictures you did take of him today were stunning." 

"It's not hard," Jongdae managed to say, "he's already naturally stunning." 

The edges of Jessica’s lips slightly raised, and she nodded. 

"Then you know what you have to do tomorrow, right?" she asked, waiting for a confirmation. She always made Jongdae repeat his affirmation that he understood what he had to so he’d have no excuses if he ever failed to meet her high standards.  

"Yeah, I do," Jongdae said, taking a shaky breath as he wondered why his heart had started knocking against his chest again. It wasn’t like he was running or anything, afraid of anything…loving and everything. 

"I have to take the best pictures in the allotted time, showcase a variety of poses and outfits that the brand sent ahead, and match the predetermined theme and concept," Jongdae recited from memory.  

With that, Jessica dismissed him with a nod and stood up. She herself had to prepare for her own brand’s fashion show after all. Jongdae didn’t know how she could possibly manage editing a renowned magazine and designing a top fashion brand at the same time, but that was Jessica. He wouldn’t work for anyone else, even if she did spring surprise jobs at him last minute sometimes.   

Jongdae spent the rest of the day in his hotel room sorting through all the photos he had taken. But it was nearly impossible to make quick progress. Every time Jongdae stumbled upon a picture of Sehun, he stared for a few seconds too long before finally skipping to the next picture. 

After coordinating with Sunyoung and selecting a few photos to use in her article, he began editing. Jongdae would have liked to spend hours and days editing his photos, but the article was due soon, so he finished in time for dinner. He was too tired to drag himself down to the hotel’s restaurant, so he ordered room service, cheerfully placing it on Jessica’s tab. 

Jongdae would be forced to wake up at an offensive time tomorrow, so he reluctantly tried to sleep early and curled up in bed. He promised himself that he'd sleep after five minutes on his phone, but five minutes turned into ten, ten into twenty, and before Jongdae knew it, he had wasted an hour. 

He would only admit to spending fifteen minutes googling Sehun. It was normal for him to research the models he worked with, to determine if they were known for nasty temperaments or if they needed special accommodations. But it was not normal for him to be spending this much time in google images.

Seeing row after row of the same smile, the same soft lips was taking its toll on Jongdae, and he was forced to kick off the covers of his bed after his face overheated. Tomorrow he’d work with someone like that…someone as beautiful as that. 

Jongdae set ten alarms on his phone to ensure he’d wake up tomorrow and shut his eyes. Tomorrow would be fine. This wasn’t the first time he’d work with a model, and honestly, some were snooty. Demanding. People he never wanted to see ever again. So there was no need to be starry eyed over a person he hadn’t met before. 

With a face like that, Sehun was probably arrogant anyways.

 

ϟ 

Jongdae was absolutely wrong. 

At the chateau they were shooting at the next day, Jongdae was in the middle of making sure that all the clothes Louis Vuitton sent were on the hangers, all his equipment was prepared, and all the stylists and assistants were here and ready to work when Sehun pushed open the tall, mahogany doors and walked in wearing casual clothing. Not to be dramatic, but Jongdae felt like choking after taking one look at how good and expensive Sehun made everyday jeans and a simple hoodie look. 

Instead of demanding to be shown his room, Sehun pushed the hood off his head and immediately bowed and smiled at everyone from assistant to producer. Jongdae watched Sehun thank the people he had just met for all their hard work, thinking that the light of the crystal chandelier above them was nothing compared to how brightly Sehun smiled. He clutched his camera tightly, afraid that his fingers might slacken and he’d accidentally drop the equipment he couldn’t really afford to replace right now. 

As if Jongdae hadn’t been dealt enough damage, Sehun turned around, looking for anyone else to greet before he spotted Jongdae across the room. Jongdae held his breath, wondering if Sehun had finally noticed all of his shameless staring. For a few seconds, Sehun only looked at Jongdae in silence, ignoring what someone was telling him. And finally, he smiled. 

If Jongdae had not realized this yesterday, he most definitely realized this now. There was no such thing as love at first sight for him. Attraction, yes. Respect, yes. But now this. But now, Sehun.

Future at first sight. 

For a wild moment, Jongdae dared to imagine what a future with Sehun was like, and he was so deep into the potential years ahead that he hadn't realized Sehun had been walking across the room towards him. Until he repeated his greeting a third time. 

“Hey,” Sehun said, slightly bending down to meet Jongdae’s gaze, “Are you all right?” 

“Yeah,” Jongdae said, snapping himself out of the future and dragging himself back to this present. He took a deep breath and tried to be professional. “Hello. You’re Sehun, right?” 

“Yes,” Sehun smiled. 

“Obviously,” Jongdae said, slightly relaxing. It was a shame he continued speaking before he could process what he was about to say next. “There’s no one else here that could pass for a model.”

Sehun laughed, and Jongdae smiled as he watched Sehun’s eyes disappear into little crescents. 

“Don’t be too sure of that,” Sehun shook his head, “What about you? If you didn’t have that camera in your hands, I would’ve thought you were another model. We could’ve taken this photoshoot together.” 

It was Jongdae’s turn to laugh.

“Me?” he said, “A model? I’m a little short for that.” 

“I’ll sit,” Sehun said, bending down to make himself shorter, “so you can be the tall one. Then it works out, right?”

“Not at all,” Jongdae shook his head, “Isn’t there some unspoken rule that you have to be at least six feet to model?” 

Sehun straightened up, pressing his lips together before shyly continuing to speak. Jongdae leaned closer to catch the whispered words.

“I think you’re beautiful enough, so it doesn’t matter,” he said, causing Jongdae to strangle his camera for support, “What’s your name?” 

Before Jongdae could say anything at all, the producer clapped his hands together and announced the start of today’s photoshoot. 

“Gotta go,” Jongdae said, flashing Sehun a grin as he took off, “Are you coming or what?” 

Jongdae briskly rushed ahead to clear his mind and calm down, but the sound of footsteps pounding against the marble floor and Sehun’s voice echoed behind him.

“Wait! I didn’t catch your name.”

Jongdae turned around in time to see the stylists and makeup artist lead Sehun away to get ready. He waved sweetly before ducking behind a pillar and fishing out his phone. He didn’t know the number for emergency services in France, so he texted Baekhyun a few panicked messages. 

 _Help. I met a boy._

_Urgent._

_Please respond ASAP._

_HELP._

He waited a few seconds before realizing Baekhyun, on the other side of the world, was probably sleeping at the moment. His other friends in Korea would be uselessly sleeping, too, so there was only one option left. 

“Jessica,” Jongdae said, only realizing that he shouldn’t have called her for something like this after she had picked up the phone. 

“Yes?” Jessica said, “Is everything okay? Did you find the chateau all right?” 

Jongdae paused, debating between telling her he had accidentally called and rambling about what had just happened and waiting for the moral support he would certainly never receive. 

“You remember…Sehun?” Jongdae said, already regretting everything. 

“Yes. Why? Did he not show up?” Jessica asked, “I’ll make some calls, so j—”

“No, no, he’s here,” Jongdae said, clutching his phone tightly. 

“Then what’s the problem?” Jessica asked. 

“He’s…” Jongdae said, struggling to voice the words that were clawing at his throat, “He’s _here_. And he’s _beautiful…_ like? Every Greek god’s been found dead in a French ditch. That’s the problem.” 

Jessica let out a long exhale. 

“…My own fashion show is starting later this evening, so don’t call again if this is your biggest concern. I don’t pay you to be a flustered mess, Jongdae. Play it cool. Or else,” she said before hanging up.

That went as well as Jongdae expected, and he pocketed his phone, surprised at how worse that conversation could have been. In an effort to take his mind off of Sehun, Jongdae found the producer in the next room and discussed work. Professional business. Professional, dull business.

He was doing well until Sehun reemerged wearing the first outfit for today, causing Jongdae to forget what he was telling the producer again. Someone, probably a manager, stayed by Sehun’s side and fussed over him, though was eventually pushed to the side by the stylists. 

“All right! Since we’re all good to go, let’s start,” the producer said before directing Sehun to sit at the bottom of the winding staircase. 

Jongdae approached as close as he dared, and as he checked his settings one last time, Sehun quietly spoke again. 

“Don’t be like this,” Sehun pleaded, “Tell me your name.” 

“Are you going to pose, or is this the angle you’re going for?” Jongdae asked instead. He could play it cool. Totally.

Sehun let out a sigh before he shifted his expression and posed. Jongdae occasionally worked with less experienced models and had to direct their poses, but Sehun didn’t need any help. Sehun knew how to tilt his chin and angle his body to provide Jongdae the most perfect shot. There really wasn’t anything Jongdae needed to do except point and shoot. 

They worked well together, Jongdae changing angles as often as Sehun did. Jongdae didn’t want to be overly confident, but he was sure that all these photos would turn out wonderfully. The most difficult part of this photoshoot would be choosing which photos to use. 

But it wasn’t like Jongdae to work in silence, so he finally offered Sehun something other than occasional prompts and directions. 

“Perfect,” Jongdae said, “Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.” 

“Is that your name?” Sehun asked, breaking his expression to grin, “Should I call you what you are? Beautiful?” 

Jongdae lowered his camera and stared at him for a few seconds, wondering if he’d heard Sehun properly. 

“I thought you were supposed to be shy,” Jongdae said, thinking back to all the research he had done yesterday, “Every interviewer always says you’re quiet and soft-spoken.”

“Well, I can be,” Sehun said a little softer and pressed his hands to his face, “But if I want something, I have to be bold, right? Speak my mind, right? Take it before someone else does. Right?”

Jongdae blinked and only gestured for Sehun to get back to work. He didn’t have the time to process what Sehun had said right now.

“Stunning,” Jongdae said a little quieter seconds later, “Beautiful.” 

Whenever Jongdae worked with models, he always offered them compliments to encourage them and let them know they were doing well. But the words tumbling out of Jongdae’s mouth were not said out of habit, no. This was Jongdae openly admiring Sehun, returning the interest that had been shown to him as professionally as he could.

“All right, let’s change outfits and try a different location,” the producer said, spinning his finger in the air. 

Instantly, who Jongdae assumed was Sehun’s manager pulled Sehun’s arm and led him towards the dressing room. 

“Back there, were you talking about the shot or me?” Sehun managed to ask Jongdae before he was out of earshot.   

Jongdae wondered if he was being too obvious. There was no way Sehun hadn’t seen the way Jongdae’s whole heart was bursting out of his chest and the way all the stars danced in his eyes when he looked at him. Right? 

“I was talking about my name,” Jongdae shouted back. 

Sehun made a face at Jongdae before his manager pushed him out of sight. Fifteen minutes later, he returned, dressed in a blue suit. This time, the producer announced they’d make use of the expansive landscape outdoors and take photos there. 

Jongdae trailed behind the producer, taking a couple test shots to check the new settings he had switched for the outdoor conditions. Before he knew it, Sehun had escaped the clutches of his manager and started walking by his side. 

“So, what’s your name?” Sehun asked, “It’s not fair that you know mine and I don’t know yours.” 

“Why do you want to know it so badly?” Jongdae asked, keeping his gaze forwards. In front of them, the producer had stopped to examine a field of blue flowers, but Jongdae marched forwards. 

“Because,” Sehun said, matching his pace, “I like to know the people I work with.” 

“Oh, so you just want to be a good co-worker,” Jongdae said, his tone teasing but his intentions inquisitive, “That’s all?” 

None of this was planned. All Jongdae was supposed to do today was show up to work. Be polite to his co-workers. Do his job. Go back to the hotel and find an expensive restaurant to enjoy. 

But then this. 

But then Sehun. 

Sure, Jongdae may have anticipated admiring Sehun from afar, but none of this…his reaction, his heart, Sehun’s responses....was on his schedule. 

The producer called them back, determined to take photos here, but none of them heard. 

“No,” Sehun said, causing Jongdae to stop in his tracks, “I’m just…curious. Not as a co-worker.” 

Jongdae swallowed his first response, _then as what?_ , and managed an equally vague response. 

“Well, Sehun,” Jongdae said, turning to face him, “If you stay close, I’m sure you’ll figure it out eventually.” 

“How close?” Sehun asked. 

“Closer than this,” Jongdae said before taking a few steps back, “But why don’t you walk towards me, and we’ll take some shots like that?”

Sehun agreed and slipped back into a carefully controlled expression as he walked…no _strutted_ towards Jongdae. Jongdae watched every step Sehun took so he could time the best shots. 

“Good. Nice,” Jongdae commented. Sehun continued walking until he stood in front of Jongdae again. 

“Is this close enough?” Sehun asked. 

Jongdae tilted his chin up to look at Sehun, thinking of anything to say. Anything at all. But his mind was blank as he flicked his gaze from Sehun’s eyes to his lips.

The longer Jongdae stayed silent, the more Sehun’s confidence wilted. Eventually, Sehun looked away and placed a hand to the back of his head. He opened his mouth as if to blurt out a _never mind_ , but Jongdae beat him to it.

“Nah. Try closer,” he said before noticing an assistant running towards them while waving their hands, beckoning them to _please come back!_  

Jongdae sped walk ahead, alone for two seconds before Sehun caught up with him. 

“How about now?” Sehun asked. This time, his arm brushed against Jongdae’s.

Jongdae paused for a moment. Was this too close? Too far? Should he draw away? 

“My name’s Jongdae,” he instead decided to say. 

“Jongdae…” Sehun repeated, trying out the name for himself, letting the syllables dissolve into silence before he smiled and stretched his hand out towards Jongdae. “See, that wasn’t so hard, right? It’s nice to officially meet you, Jongdae.” 

Jongdae took Sehun's hand, trying not to think about how soft it was, and shook it three times before their hands slid away.

“It’s nice to meet you a second time,” Jongdae said, “and I think y—” 

He was spared from saying anything embarrassing when Sehun’s manager stormed down the path, grabbed Sehun’s arm, and led him towards the producer. 

“Let’s _go_ , Sehun,” he said, “It isn’t professional for you to waste time.”

“It was only a minute or two,” Sehun protested, yanking his arm away from his manager. 

“Time is money in this business,” his manager chided, “let’s go. We don’t want you to be blacklisted if you anger these people. Be more professional.” 

“I want to walk with Jongdae,” Sehun pouted. His manager pushed him ahead and shot Jongdae a look. What. It wasn’t Jongdae’s fault that Sehun wanted to talk to him. 

Jongdae stood, watching Sehun’s manager bow in apology multiple times to the producer, who only waved them off and said it was fine. They’d rented out the chateau for the whole day, so this shoot could be more relaxed, unlike many of the other ones Jongdae had done inside a studio. 

“Jongdae, are you coming?” someone shouted. 

Jongdae sighed and picked up his pace. 

The shoot continued for another forty-five minutes with pauses allowing for outfit changes and makeup retouches. Sehun didn’t say anything more, as his manager opted to stand uncomfortably close to Jongdae to make sure nothing but work was happening.

“Do you mind?” Jongdae asked after Sehun’s manager cast a shadow over him. 

“Do you?” his manager said, “You two already wasted enough time talking. I need to make sure we finish on time and that the job is done.” 

“It was only a minute,” Sehun said. 

“You’re not allowed to have breaks when you work, Sehun,” his manager said, “Be professional. You know that.” 

Sehun’s expression crumpled for a second before he recovered and slid a familiar, stoic look onto his countenance. Sure, they may have just met, but Jongdae didn’t even hesitate and opened his mouth. 

“We’re both doing our jobs. And I don’t think yours involves standing in the way of our shot, so if you don’t mind, please f—” Jongdae said. 

“Okay!” the producer said, briskly spreading his hands out to diffuse the tension, “Why don’t we take a break?” 

Sehun’s manager glared at Jongdae, a look Jongdae returned. 

“Let’s calm down. He’s doing a fine job, so relax, or I’ll have to ask you to leave,” the producer said, guiding Sehun’s manager away. 

Jongdae let go of his camera, letting it hang from his neck as he placed his hands on his hips, watching Sehun’s manager look back and tap his wrist. 

“So what’s his problem anyways?” Jongdae asked Sehun. When he received no response, he turned and found Sehun sitting on the steps of the gazebo, that blank look still on his face. 

“Hey,” Jongdae said a little softer, “Are you all right?” 

He hesitantly took a seat next to Sehun and slowly scooted over until their shoulders touched.

“He means well, but he’s so strict,” Sehun mumbled, “I can’t have fun while on the job? I can’t have a break, too?” 

“Fire him,” Jongdae said.

Sehun shook his head. 

“He got me this far. I wouldn’t be anywhere without him. Or anyone,” he said. 

“False,” Jongdae said. When Sehun said nothing, Jongdae repeated himself louder. “ _False_. You’re still yourself.” 

The tips of Sehun’s lips lifted up slightly. Encouraged, Jongdae continued speaking, talking until Sehun wanted to talk, trying until Sehun smiled bigger and brighter. Jongdae learned that Sehun was also from Seoul, but he hadn’t come home in a while since he had been working around the world. 

“Do you ever miss home?” Jongdae asked. 

“Yeah,” Sehun said, “I do like traveling…but it’s too bad I don’t stay in any city for very long. And that I spend all my time working instead of seeing the city.” 

“Same,” Jongdae sighed, “This is my first time here, and I’m on a business trip. I’m supposed to be sipping tiny coffees and staring at the Eiffel Tower right now.” 

“But instead, you’re here,” Sehun said. They fell silent, each staring out at the landscape in front of them. The fields of blue flowers swayed back and forth in the breeze. Bees zipped between the flowers, dancing between the shade and the sun. 

“It could be worse,” Jongdae said. 

“What would you do if you had the time to spend in the city?” Sehun asked. 

“Typical things,” Jongdae said, reducing his detailed plans into a few basics, “Eiffel Tower, cafés, and whatever I can cram into the little time I have here. What about you?” 

“I wanted to do the same, really,” Sehun nodded, “Walk around Champs-Élysées, take pictures at monuments, maybe the Louvre again…you know, to look at paintings instead of clothes.” 

Then he looked around, as if to check if anyone else was listening, and leaned closer to Jongdae who closed the distance further to listen carefully. 

“What?” Jongdae asked, mirroring his voice to match Sehun’s hushed tone. 

“I mostly want to sit by the Seine and stare at the sky. Haven’t you noticed it yet? It’s so beautiful,” Sehun said. 

“No,” Jongdae said, “Only glances here and there.” 

“I don’t know,” Sehun shrugged, “Some people like to go stargazing. But me? I like to skygaze. I think the skies in Paris are the prettiest I’ve ever seen so far. If I had the time, I’d walk around or sit and admire the sky. See?” 

He straightened up and pointed at the horizon. Jongdae gave the sky and its sparse clouds a glance before returning his gaze to Sehun, noticing the content smile that had appeared on his face, the soft look in his eyes. 

“Hey,” Jongdae said, trying to stop the shakiness he felt from spilling out into his words, “I bet if we finish this photoshoot early, then we’ll still have time to explore the city before the night falls. And if we have that time, do you want to go with me?”

He hesitated, waited for a confused look, an easy let down, and prepared to hastily take back his words. Then he saw the way Sehun’s expression brightened and almost slumped against the gazebo’s columns in relief. 

“Yes!” Sehun loudly said, attracting the attention of a few assistants who stood meters away from them. He lowered his voice before continuing to speak. “Yes. I’d love that. I’d love to explore the city with you afterwards.” 

“Alright,” Jongdae smiled and nodded, “Then you and I have to do our best to cut down our photoshoot time. We can’t cut down quality, so we’ll have to be better. Or at least I have to be…You’ve been amazing.” 

Usually, Jongdae liked taking his time on jobs. It didn’t matter if it took him two or four hours to take pictures, three or five days to edit them. But he was ready to breeze by and finish in ten minutes maximum in order to have more time with Sehun.   

“Really?” Sehun asked, letting out a small laugh that caused Jongdae’s heart to stutter in his chest, “It’s all thanks to you, Jongdae. Only the best photographers make models feel like all their poses are natural, that every shot comes out just the way they want.” 

“Or it only takes the best model to make everything effortless,” Jongdae said.

“Oh, Jongdae,” Sehun sighed, “I think you’re—” 

“Are you going to talk the whole time, or are we getting back to work?” Sehun’s manager suddenly bellowed in the distance, beckoning them to follow the rest of the crew inside the chateau.

“What are we going to do about him?” Sehun asked, standing up and offering Jongdae his hand, “He was taking me to a networking event after.” 

“He can go by himself,” Jongdae said, taking Sehun’s hand as Sehun helped him up, “Don’t worry. I’ll sneak you out if I have to.”

“Thanks, Jongdae,” Sehun smiled. 

Three minutes later inside one of the many parlor rooms of the chateau, they worked faster than they did before, Jongdae shouting out cues and encouragements and Sehun changing his poses at two times their normal pace. Sehun looked seriously at the camera, but Jongdae wasn’t a model, so he kept his grin hidden behind his camera as he took shot after shot. 

“Perfect.” 

“Beautiful.”

“ _Stunning_.”

In no time, they had finished shooting in every location the producer had suggested. With nothing else to do, Sehun gleefully raced off to change back into his own clothes while Jongdae showed the producer all the photos he had taken in the past thirty minutes. The producer himself stared in disbelief at everything that they had managed to do in the minimal time they had spent. 

“I’m sure you’ll find your front cover somewhere in there,” Jongdae said as the producer continued to scan through all the photos with his eyebrows raised, “If there’s nothing else you want us to do, we’re leaving now.”

“We?” a voice mocked Jongdae. 

Jongdae turned around, already anticipating Sehun’s manager standing behind him.  

“Yes, since we finished both of our jobs,” Jongdae said.

“Sehun’s leaving in two minutes to reach a networking event. He can show up early,” Sehun’s manager sniffed. 

“That sounds lovely,” Jongdae dryly said, “You do that and have fun.” 

“Please. It's not for fun, it's for his own good,” Sehun’s manager said, turning his attention to his phone, “Have you seen him?” 

“Yeah,” Jongdae said, “He said he left something upstairs, so he went to grab it.”

Sehun’s manager shook his head at Jongdae, leaving him with a disapproving look before heading up the stairs. Jongdae waited until he disappeared before thanking the producer for everything and racing to the front doors. 

“Sehun?” he said after shutting the door behind him. 

“I’m here,” Sehun whispered, crawling out from behind the bush he had been hiding in, “Are you sure we can just…go?” 

“Hurry before your manager sees you,” Jongdae said, grabbing his hand as he quickly strode towards the chateau’s gates. 

“This is the first time I’ve left a shoot so early,” Sehun whispered, looking back to check if anyone was following them. 

“Come on,” Jongdae said, breaking out into a run after hearing voices behind them. Sehun easily kept up beside him, letting out a laugh as they wove their way through the garden hedges. When they were far away enough from the chateau, they slowed down, breaking apart to bend over and recover. 

“All right,” Jongdae said between deep breaths, “We have the rest of the day to ourselves, so where do you want to go first?”

“Anywhere is good with me,” Sehun said, flashing Jongdae a thumbs up. 

Jongdae had a plan. A schedule. A thoroughly researched idea of what he wanted to do. So why he insisted on Sehun choosing, he didn’t know. Why he was fine with Champs Élysées instead of the Eiffel Tower first, he didn’t know. Why he didn’t care what tomorrow’s schedule even looked like, he didn’t know. 

Five minutes later while they were stepping into a taxi, Sehun’s manager called, a call that Jongdae persuaded Sehun to leave unanswered. Six minutes later and six missed calls later, Sehun handed Jongdae his phone and covered his eyes as Jongdae turned it off for him. Thirty minutes later, they arrived at Champs Élysées. Jongdae climbed out first to help Sehun out of the car. Tourists walked around them carrying big bags from big brand names. Some pointed at the lights while others stopped by a restaurant for a quick bite. 

“Ready?” Sehun said, slipping his arm through Jongdae’s before changing his mind and letting go, “Oh, sorry about that. It’s a habit I have with people I’m comfortable with.”

“Wait, keep it there,” Jongdae said, touching Sehun’s arm in protest, “You’re comfortable with me? Already? So soon?”

Sehun looked at him. 

A pause.

A breath.

A smile.

“Yeah,” he said, reaching forwards to clutch Jongdae’s arm again, “I am.” 

Sehun held onto Jongdae’s arm and never left his side while they walked around and window shopped. It was a good thing Sehun led, as Jongdae found his gaze straying from the streets and the shops, focusing only on Sehun. His smile. The way the wind lightly tousled his bangs.

There were times when Jongdae stopped himself from falling for someone. Like he knew if he had the time, if he kept someone in his thoughts for far too long, then he could learn to care for them deeply. But with Sehun, he plummeted heart first, not knowing how far he’d fall, not caring if he’d crash at the end. 

“We still have so much time. This is so nice,” Sehun said as they waited at an intersection. He kept his eyes on the horizon, placing a hand over his forehead as he skygazed.

“Time for what?” Jongdae asked, “Do you want to eat? Rest? Sit down? You must be tired after today.” 

As the light turned green, Sehun stepped off the pavement and onto the asphalt, gently tugging Jongdae with him. 

“Time to get to know each other,” Sehun said as they crossed the street, “How many more days are you here for?” 

“Two more days,” Jongdae said, watching the red, flashing numbers on the light.  

2… 

Two days was too short.

“Same,” Sehun sighed, “Such a shame.”

Jongdae opened his mouth before changing his mind and keeping his words to himself. He had wanted to say that there was always tomorrow, but he couldn’t impose the future on someone he had just met. Tomorrow was a promise that he couldn’t give someone who would leave him in two days. 

“If we had the time, then I’d want to get to know you at our own pace,” Sehun said, “But we don’t. So why don’t we play a game? I’ll assume something about you, and you tell me if I’m right or not. I’ll keep guessing until I’m wrong. Then it’s your turn.” 

“All right,” Jongdae said, “Go first.” 

“You like coffee,” Sehun said as they passed by the biggest Häagen-Dazs store Jongdae had ever seen. He stopped in his tracks and watched waiters carrying towers of ice cream. “You seem like someone who needs to function with caffeine.” 

“I do,” Jongdae laughed as he tugged Sehun towards the line, wanting to treat him to some ice cream. “If I don’t have a little coffee in the morning, I’ll be tired for the rest of the day.” 

“You like sunsets,” Sehun said, leaning sideways to check how many people were in front of them, “But who doesn’t?” 

As the line shortened, Jongdae took a few steps forwards. 

“I do,” Jongdae said, “If I don’t have work, then I’ll sit outside by the river and watch the sunset. The colors are always so pretty.” 

“All by yourself?” Sehun asked.

“Most of the time,” Jongdae said, “But Baekhyun sometimes joins me…My best friend, Baekhyun.” 

Jongdae didn’t know why he needed to clarify that.  

Sehun turned around to skygaze again, his smile dimming. 

“It must be nice to be able to do that,” Sehun said, “Knowing what time you can stop working, having breaks between jobs. Getting to watch the sky with people you care about.” 

“You don’t have that time?” Jongdae asked. He realized how foolish of a question that was after remembering the way Sehun’s manager refused to even let him have a short break. 

“Not really,” Sehun shook his head, “I travel a lot for my job, and my manager doesn’t give me breaks in between schedules. He thinks traveling between places is a break…And the people I spend the most time with are stylists, makeup artists, photographers, other models I don’t know, and my manager. Not my friends back home.” 

“The next time I see your manager, you’re going to have to hold me back,” Jongdae said, stomping his foot down on the ground as he followed the shortening line, “He can’t overwork you like that.” 

“He says that the second I stop working is the second the industry forgets about me. Only the most hard-working people stay relevant. But I want to take a break to sleep a little sometimes, you know?” Sehun said, turning back to look at Jongdae as if to check if he was still listening. Still here. 

“Of course,” Jongdae said, reaching out to touch Sehun’s arm, “I don’t know how long you’ve been doing this, but you need a break. At least to rest.” 

“I want to slow down, to take my time to live. But I don’t think it’s happening anytime soon,” Sehun said, pressing his lips together for a moment, “My manager says that this fashion show is a big opportunity for me, so I have to use the momentum from this appearance to keep pushing forwards.”

“Well, I think you should fire him. And I also think that no one would forget Louis Vuitton’s most beautiful boy if you take a week off. It’s what you deserve,” Jongdae said. 

“I can’t fire him,” Sehun said, kicking at the ground, shoving his hands in his pockets. “he discovered me. I owe my career to him.” 

“Fuck your manager,” Jongdae said, causing Sehun’s eyebrows to fly upwards. Sehun finally let out a laugh and shushed Jongdae, making excuses for his manager Jongdae didn’t really want to listen to or accept.

“Do you mind if it’s my turn now? You haven’t lost yet, but I want to know you, too,” Jongdae said.

“Go ahead,” Sehun nodded. 

“You would have a pet if you had the time and if you were home long enough. I bet…a dog,” Jongdae said, poking Sehun’s arm, “Am I right?” 

“Yeah, I do want a dog,” Sehun admitted, “I want to adopt one sometime, but…” 

Jongdae understood. But that didn’t stop him from correctly making other assumptions. He correctly guessed that Sehun liked a good glass of wine on nights spent alone in hotel rooms, meeting new people during his travels, and wearing sweatpants and simple t-shirts on off days, days he wasn’t expected to be pretty even if he always was. 

“You’d rather be at home,” Jongdae guessed next, “taking a break from all of this.” 

Sehun grinned. 

“You’re finally wrong,” he said, “We wouldn’t have met if I didn’t go, so I’d rather be here than home.” 

Before Jongdae could say anything, a waitress picked up two menus and beckoned them to follow her to their table. Jongdae took his seat in silence, watched Sehun thank the waiter with a smile, and wondered what would have happened if they hadn’t met. If the original photographer hadn’t canceled last minute. If Jongdae hadn’t asked, and if Sehun had declined. 

Sehun ignored the menus that had been placed in front of them and leaned towards Jongdae. 

“My turn again,” Sehun said. But he only froze, doing nothing but stare at Jongdae.

Jongdae waited for him to speak. All those interviews about Sehun that marked him as shy were only half-true. Sehun only spoke when he wanted to, when he was comfortable with the other person he was talking to. 

Finally, Sehun took a deep breath and smiled.

“If you’re free tomorrow, then you’d want to spend it with me and watch the skies,” he said.   

Jongdae’s mouth fell slightly open, and he searched for any sign that Sehun was joking. But Sehun only looked calm, not a hint of laughter in his hopeful smile. Maybe Sehun was the type of person who’d practice these types of lines over and over before he could say everything confidently. 

But the longer Jongdae waited to answer, the more Sehun’s confidence wavered, and the faster he looked away. Maybe Sehun wasn’t the type of person to say these things at all. Maybe he was someone who usually kept these words hidden and trapped in his heart. Jongdae was that type of person, too, unless he met the right person. 

A brilliant grin spread across Jongdae’s face, and he leaned in as close as he dared to answer. 

“Yes, Sehun,” he said with the skies and drifting clouds above as witness, “Yes, I do. I’d love that.” 

 

ϟ 

 

They met by the Seine the next day, Sehun with a picnic basket placed by his feet, Jongdae with a blanket in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other. Sehun had laughed when he saw the bottle and pulled out two empty glasses from the basket. 

It took them five minutes to spread the blanket onto the grass. The wind took half the blame, constantly blowing the fabric across the ground and into their faces. Jongdae took the other half, rippling the blanket with a laugh just as Sehun was trying to lower it. 

They sat inches apart at first, but after Sehun leaned over to open the basket and reveal fruit and some sandwiches, he brushed his shoulder against Jongdae’s. Jongdae took that as his chance to scoot closer until the inches became centimeters, until no space at all was left between them. 

They ate lunch together that afternoon, chattering about anything and everything. Sehun was an attentive listener, quiet when Jongdae spoke, thoughtful when he wove in his responses, his little jokes here and there. 

It was easy. 

This really was too easy.

Jongdae thought he was a fool for thinking that, especially since they had met only yesterday, only the day before yesterday. But really, what was he supposed to think when they had spent hours like this? Watching the skies, watching the water, watching their hands drift closer together like clouds on a lazy day.   

Sehun dropped raspberries into his champagne, watching them float and bounce in his drink with a pleased smile on his face. There were too many beautiful moments Jongdae didn’t want to miss, many times he wanted to remember. And all these smiles he wanted to catch, memories he wanted to keep. So he pulled out his camera and took a few quick pictures of the scenery to document how the sky was the exact shade of robin’s eggs, how the water lapped against the boats that passed near them before focusing on Sehun. 

Sehun tilted his head and offered the camera a smile while Jongdae took a few pictures of him. 

“Are you even trying to pose? Why do you look naturally like… _that_?” Jongdae asked as he checked the preview.   

Sehun put his hand behind his head and stretched. 

“Like what?” Sehun asked. 

“See? You’re doing it again,” Jongdae said, quickly lifting the camera to his face to capture that shot. Sehun’s candids were better than some of the most planned photoshoots, the most photoshopped pictures. Jongdae could publish these pictures in Jessica’s magazine tomorrow, and their readers would think Sehun was actually trying to model. 

“Doing what?” Sehun asked, dropping his hand to his lap. 

“Looking…effortlessly beautiful,” Jongdae muttered, hiding his expression behind the camera. 

“You think I’m effortlessly beautiful?” Sehun asked, his voice rising a little higher, his expression softening.   

“Well,” Jongdae said, clearing his throat with a cough, “Who doesn’t? Haven’t you seen all the articles? You’re Louis Vuitton’s beautiful boy.” 

Jongdae put his camera down, hastily snatched up his glass of champagne, and took a long swig. 

“Am I _your_ beautiful boy?” Sehun cheekily asked as he placed his hands underneath his chin. 

Jongdae spluttered and started coughing, accidentally sloshing his drink onto the blanket. Sehun laughed, reaching over to slap Jongdae’s back.  

“I’m joking. You don’t have to answer that,” Sehun said. Jongdae recovered, pressing his hand against his mouth as he observed Sehun. 

Sehun, who kept his hand on Jongdae’s back even though he was no longer choking. Sehun, whose small smile could outshine the sun. Sehun, who finally looked away and picked up his own glass. 

“That depends,” Jongdae said, waiting for Sehun to take a sip of his own drink, “If I call you my beautiful boy, does that give me the chance to call you mine?” 

It was Sehun’s turn to start spluttering, Jongdae’s turn to start laughing and slapping his back with a hand. Whatever this was, he was enjoying it with his whole heart. A chance Paris meet, the race of his heartbeat. A dream of a kiss, a time he’d always miss. 

“That depends,” Sehun answered, his cheeks dusted pink, a more delicate color than the bold red of the raspberries next to them, “Are you going to let me take pictures of you, or are you just going to keep taking pictures of me?” 

Jongdae was protective over his camera. It had costed him years to save up and buy all of his professional equipment, and he preferred it if no one but himself handled it, begrudgingly giving an exception to Jessica. But never had he so quickly passed over his camera to Sehun after hearing those words.  

“Smile,” Sehun said as he raised the camera to his face.

Jongdae scrunched up his nose, ignoring the way Sehun didn’t even hang the camera from his neck for extra security. 

“I’m not good at posing,” Jongdae said, suddenly feeling self-conscious about what he was doing with his arms, his hands. Only now did he realize how hard it must’ve been for models during studio photoshoots. What did they do with their limbs? Their bodies? Where did they look? Jongdae felt like he was looking not into a camera lens, but into nothing. Just a black hole waiting to devour him with a single click. 

“What are you talking about?” Sehun said, continuing to take pictures carefully, “You look beautiful always.” 

Jongdae wondered if Sehun was like this with everyone or just him. 

“Give me a pose!” Sehun said from behind the camera, “Look into the distance! Do anything!” 

Jongdae struck a vague pose, tilting his chin slightly up as he looked into the distance. 

“Wow,” Sehun encouraged him, “Keep going.” 

Jongdae stood still for about three more seconds before he shook his head and reached out for his camera again. 

“Enough,” Jongdae laughed, “I’m done.” 

Sehun held the camera out of Jongdae’s reach for a few seconds before giving up and handing it back. Jongdae made a face as he checked through all the photos Sehun took of him, only looking up when he felt Sehun’s arm around his shoulder. 

“We’re not done yet,” Sehun said, taking out his phone and flipping to the front camera, “What’s the point if we don’t have any pictures together?” 

Jongdae put his camera down and smiled while Sehun pressed his head to Jongdae’s as he flashed a peace sign. 

“Send me those,” Jongdae said as Sehun showed them the pictures they had taken. 

“Then give me your number,” Sehun said.

Jongdae nodded and pulled out his phone. Honestly, it was a miracle they had found each other today, as they’d only given each other vague details about their meeting. 12. By the Seine. Around Le Pond des Arts. Bring food. And yet, here they were despite it all. Together. 

After they traded numbers, Sehun had immediately made Jongdae pose again so could take his contact photo. Jongdae spent a minute debating whether or not placing a heart next to Sehun’s name was too dramatic until he peeked at Sehun’s screen and found his own named saved next to a string of hearts and suns. 

“Why did you want to become a photographer anyways?” Sehun asked after putting his phone away. 

“I don’t know,” Jongdae shrugged, “It just happened. It was a hobby until I was lucky enough to support myself with it.”

“What’s your favorite thing about photos?” Sehun asked. 

Jongdae fell silent and watched a man across the river pull out a guitar from his case and begin to strum a few chords. He preferred to lie to strangers, to give them easy answers, clichéd answers that they’d expect when they asked him this question. Sehun was new, but he wasn’t a stranger, didn’t feel like a stranger. So after a while, Jongdae spoke the truth. 

“The present doesn’t seem like it exists sometimes,” Jongdae announced. 

Sehun didn’t ask what this had to do with photography, what this meant at all, only listening and letting Jongdae continue to speak.   

“Maybe it only fills the space between the past and future. A place to look backwards and forwards,” Jongdae said, turning on his camera before showing Sehun the pictures that they had taken. 

“I don’t think that photos can prove the present. But they do contain the instant. Isn’t that cool? This instant happened…And this one. And this one,” Jongdae said, flicking through pictures they had taken moments ago and minutes ago and hours ago and days ago. He stopped before Sehun could see any shots from the Louis Vuitton event and realize how many times Jongdae had taken his picture. 

“I’ve never thought about it that way,” Sehun slowly said. He reached out to touch the sky, closing his hand over a cloud, opening it to reveal nothing at all. “Then what do we describe a moment like this? If it’s not the present because the present doesn’t exist, then what?” 

“I don’t know,” Jongdae shrugged, “how about…now?” 

“Now…I like that,” Sehun nodded, “We’re here now…here in Paris with the sky looking this beautiful now. We’re alive now, and happy now…at least I am.” 

He dropped his hand to his lap and smiled at Jongdae.

“I am, too,” Jongdae smiled. He wanted to place his hand over Sehun’s, but for now, only placed it on his own knee. 

“How did you become a model?” Jongdae asked before he stopped himself, “Wait. Never mind. Any brand who sees your beautiful self would snatch you up in seconds…so did you always want to model?” 

Sehun started picking at the fabric on the blanket. 

“When I was younger, an agent chased me for thirty minutes until I agreed to attend an audition,” Sehun said, “Now I’m here.” 

“Please tell me that wasn’t your manager,” Jongdae said, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“That was…my manager,” Sehun nodded. 

“Oh my _god_ ,” Jongdae said, “If I were you, I would’ve been terrified.” 

“I was, to be honest,” Sehun said, “Imagine getting chased for thirty minutes, Jongdae. I gave up after I couldn’t breathe anymore…I really thought I was going to die.” 

“This isn’t making him look any better to me,” Jongdae shook his head, “but I guess I have to admit your manager really took one look at your younger self and knew you’d grow up to be beloved by many. An icon for all. Even if I can’t stand him. I still can’t believe he doesn’t let you approve your own schedules. What the fuck.” 

If anyone was watching, all they’d see was one boy letting out a loud laugh, and another watching him like one would admire the stars. 

“I’ve been on the go, here and there since the beginning of this year,” Sehun said. Across the river, the man with the guitar began singing, and Jongdae softly hummed.

“One city to the next. One country to the next,” Sehun said with a sigh, “I didn’t realize how much life I was missing until I’d arrive at the next photoshoot, the next event, the next fitting, the next casting and think about all the others I’d been to. Maybe this is all my life is. All that my life will be…One job after the other. A blur of past moments with the promise of the future taken away.”

“Just focus on now,” Jongdae said, elbowing Sehun gently, “You’re here now. You’re not alone now. You’re just you now, away from all your jobs, and you’re sitting here. Living. Breathing." 

“And I’m with you,” Sehun smiled, “I think this is the happiest I’ve been all year. Thank you, Jongdae.” 

Jongdae finally lifted his hand to reach over to take Sehun’s, but Sehun beat him to it, putting his hand over Jongdae’s before Jongdae could even blink. 

As the sky began to fade, the splatters of pink looking like the patches of roses that appeared on both of their cheeks, Jongdae turned his hand over and slid his fingers through Sehun’s. 

 

ϟ

 

There was an unmistakable and unspoken issue that the two of them stubbornly avoided talking about the next day. 

The last day that they would have together. Or hours, really. Sehun was catching a flight to his next job, and Jongdae was traveling back to Seoul today. 

On that last day, they aimlessly wandered through the city until it was clear neither of them knew where they were. 

Jongdae wanted to focus on now, this moment here, but that was impossible when Sehun received a few texts from his manager informing him that he had four hours left in the city before they’d leave for the airport. Sehun reported the fact with his eyes still on his screen, unable to watch Jongdae’s reaction. Jongdae himself could find nothing to say in reply, only picking up his phone to check the time for himself before letting out a sigh. 

To let go of something this new, something this good wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. But what could Jongdae do? It wasn’t like he could quit his job and step onto that plane with Sehun, too. 

They met in Paris, and they would leave each other in Paris. That much was clear. But neither wanted to discuss what to do when this would end, what to do when they’d leave each other. 

“What’s your favorite flower?” Jongdae asked as they walked by a flower shop. He needed a distraction, something to talk about other than the time. The end. 

“Guess,” Sehun said, stopping to smell a bouquet of blue roses. 

“There are at least fifty different types of flowers here,” Jongdae said as he peeked through the window of the shop. 

“Then it’s good I think all flowers are lovely,” Sehun said, shifting his attention to the pink roses beside the blue ones, “It’s okay if you don’t pick the right one. I’ll still love it.” 

“But I want to pick your favorite,” Jongdae said, pushing open the doors and marching straight in, “Tell me for real if I’m right or wrong.” 

“Okay,” Sehun said, following him inside. A gray cat sitting near the entrance of the store flicked its tail in greeting, its green eyes following them as they walked deeper into the store. The shopkeeper offered them a smile and a cheerful _bonjour!_  

“Roses. Who doesn’t like roses?” Jongdae asked, pointing to a few scarlet roses resting in a pail of water. He looked at Sehun for a sign he was on the right track, but Sehun offered him no words, not even a shrug. 

Sehun stayed by the entrance to pet the cat, but Jongdae examined every flower from blossoming buds to yellow daffodils, potted hyacinths to strange flowers he couldn't name. 

Jongdae then turned to Sehun for inspiration. Sehun was iconic like red roses, bright like daffodils, sweet like cherry blossoms…But he was more beautiful than any flower in the world. 

“Wait outside,” Jongdae said, “I’ll come back and surprise you with your favorite one.” 

“You’re buying me flowers?” Sehun asked, standing up hastily. The cat let out a hiss and scampered off, hiding between two buckets of lilacs. 

“Of course,” Jongdae said, like it was the most obvious decision in the world, “I wouldn’t go inside if I wasn’t going to.” 

“Thanks, Jongdae,” Sehun smiled, “That’s very kind of you. I’ll find you outside, okay?” 

Jongdae watched Sehun push the door open and admired his broad shoulders through the window before turning back to the flowers. While he was examining some hydrangeas, the clock on the shopkeeper’s wall announced the time. Jongdae checked the clock to confirm what he had wanted to forget, the strikes of the hour striking his heart. An hour and a half left. 

It was there in the middle of the flower shop that Jongdae finally wondered why he was putting so much effort into someone he had met only three days ago. Someone perhaps he’d never see again after this. Sure, they both lived in Seoul, but would they really meet again after all of this? They worked in the same industry, but would that be enough?

Maybe their paths would intersect once now, but divert after that. Maybe Paris was destined to be the only meeting life would give them. 

Jongdae hesitated, looked outside the window, and found Sehun gone. Maybe he had left to wait for him on a bench. Maybe he had gotten thirsty and was buying a drink. Maybe he had left for the airport without saying anything. 

Something brushed against Jongdae’s legs, and he looked down to find the cat wandering around the store again. The flower shop’s owner bent down to pick up the cat and walked closer to Jongdae, emphasizing her recommendations with a tilt of her head. Jongdae shook his head at all of the flowers she showed him. Daisies were too simple, carnations too mundane. If this was the last time they’d ever see each other, then these flowers had to be special. 

“Est-ce que tu cherches les fleurs pour ton ami?” the shopkeeper asked, “Le beau homme avec une jolie sourire?” 

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” Jongdae said. 

“Pour son amour?” the shopkeeper continued. 

Jongdae repeated himself, apologizing that he didn’t understand.

“Ah! Il est ton mari. D’accord,” the shopkeeper beamed, scratching her cat’s ears. 

She chattered pleasantly, Jongdae doing his best to smile, nod, and hope he wasn’t being impolite. He continued examining the flowers, dissatisfied with nearly every flower in this shop. 

The clock chimed in the corner, signaling fifteen minutes were gone. Now there was an hour and fifteen minutes until they’d leave. 

“These ones,” Jongdae said, pointing decisively at his choice. These probably weren’t Sehun’s favorite flowers, but they had caught his eye. 

The shopkeeper nodded, gently placed her cat on the floor, and pointed at the different bouquet sizes on the wall. 

“Big…The biggest one you have,” Jongdae said, stretching out his hands for emphasis. It wasn’t like he was going to be spending any of his remaining euros anytime soon, and it’d be a pain to convert everything back to his own currency. 

“Please make it beautiful,” Jongdae said, gesturing with his hands, hoping the shopkeeper understood. She nodded, probably used to the nervous lovers desperate to impress, resigned sinners needing to apologize, children rushing in for the perfect Mother’s Day gift, and people like Jongdae. 

As the shopkeeper began constructing a large bouquet worthy of Sehun, Jongdae continued to walk around the shop. There were no fallen petals, no clipped stems, stray thorns, or any wilted flowers on the ground at all. Above, the ceiling was painted to reflect an early morning sky with soft pink clouds and a sweet blue horizon. 

Then Jongdae remembered how Sehun looked whenever he stared at the sky. How he skygazed with wide eyes, a soft smile, and an open heart. 

Jongdae averted his gaze back to the flowers. He couldn’t think like that. Not again. After all, they had just met. They were leaving in an hour. They'd probably never see each other again. Paris would be a dream by the time Jongdae was back in Seoul, a dream that he'd close his eyes to chase after awakening. 

After the shopkeeper finished, she called Jongdae over for his approval. Blue ribbon was intertwined throughout the stems and securely held every vibrant flower together.    

"Thank you," he said, looking at the shopkeeper’s name as he pulled out some money, “Thank you, Sooyoung. It's perfect. It's beautiful."

After paying, he held the bouquet in one hand and inched out of the shop, careful to not close the door on the flowers, and searched for Sehun. He looked towards his left, wondering if Sehun really did leave without saying good-bye before he heard a loud gasp and turned the other way. Sehun raced towards Jongdae, one hand over his mouth, the other carrying a small blue bag. 

"How did you know?" Sehun breathlessly asked after he reached him, "That these are my favorite flowers?" 

"You're just saying that aren't you?" Jongdae answered with a smile, handing the bouquet to Sehun who accepted it eagerly. "There's no way that I've actually chosen right. There were so many flowers inside." 

"Not at all," Sehun said, hiding his face from Jongdae as he smelled the flowers, "Irises are my favorite. I really mean it, Jongdae. Thank you."

"Of course," Jongdae said as he watched Sehun admire the irises. Luck. It was probably luck. Luck that brought them together, luck that made Jongdae choose those delicate blue flowers over everything else. Sehun over everyone else. 

"I can't believe you guessed right," Sehun said as he examined the flowers again, "Really...how did you know? Did you ask my manager? But I've never told anyone I love irises." 

Something was waiting to spill out of Jongdae's mouth, but he didn't want to say it because it was too early and too late for such words.

"It felt right," Jongdae shrugged. 

"Then I'm lucky. The luckiest," Sehun smiled before he held out a bag with his other hand, "Here. These are for you. I bought them while waiting."

“For me?” Jongdae asked, looking inside to find a small rectangular box. He was about to reach inside to open it before he felt a hand on his shoulder. 

“Let’s sit,” Sehun said, leading Jongdae across the street towards an empty wooden bench. Here they could sit and watch the tourists, the motorcycles pass by. All of them here one second, gone the next. A fate that Jongdae and Sehun would soon experience. 

“Open it,” Sehun said. 

Jongdae opened the box to find eight macarons inside, all in varying shades of blue and pink. 

“They reminded me of the sky the first time we spent time together,” Sehun smiled, “I hope they taste as good as they look.” 

“Thanks, Sehun,” Jongdae said, picking up a dusty rose macaron before passing the box to Sehun, “Share with me.” 

Sehun chose a blue macaron and bit into it. He nodded in approval as he chewed, motioning at Jongdae to eat, too. Jongdae bit into the tiny dessert, wondering what flavor it was. It couldn’t be strawberry. Cherry? Pomegranate? It didn’t matter. He enjoyed the sweet taste, the light crunch, and the way it melted in his mouth. 

They ate the whole box together while enjoying the ambience, watching the cute children tugging their parents into the bakery nearby, the café with the line that stretched across the street. It was funny how they were talking so amicably, acting like they weren’t going to leave so soon. 

Jongdae was still in the middle of laughing at a joke Sehun had told before Sehun’s phone buzzed. Sehun pulled his phone out and stared at the screen. 

“It’s time,” Sehun announced, his change in tone causing the smile to slide off of Jongdae’s face. 

Time. 

No need to explain what that meant. 

“I don’t want to lose you,” Jongdae blurted out. This couldn’t be the end. “I’ve only just met you.” 

“We’ve only just started something, too,” Sehun said, slumping against the bench. 

“We have?” Jongdae said. 

Sehun’s eyes widened, and he tripped on his words, stumbled over syllables, and restarted what he wanted to say a few times until Jongdae could understand him.

“I mean…unless I misread everything and I jumped to conclusions, and—” Sehun said.    

Jongdae let out a laugh despite the situation. 

“Oh, no,” Jongdae said, relaxing, “I feel the same.”   

If this went badly, at least Jongdae could say he was honest until the end. 

“I bet if we stayed here longer, it could’ve been…something else,” Sehun said. He couldn’t look at Jongdae and tugged his hood over his head. 

“Like what?” Jongdae asked, lightly bumping Sehun’s shoulder with his. 

Sehun shook his head.   

“Don’t make me say it,” he said. 

“Say what?” Jongdae asked. 

“You _know_ ,” Sehun said, reaching out to take Jongdae’s hand and hold it, “Don’t you? It can’t be just me…feeling these things. This can’t be just part of my imagination.” 

But Jongdae was already past imagining if this was real or not, platonic or not. He was already imagining a future with Sehun in it, a future where Sehun could take all the breaks he wanted, where Sehun could adopt that dog he wanted, where Sehun could sleep in the same bed with him in the same country. 

“Yeah, I know,” Jongdae smiled and swung their hands around, “Too bad you’re the world’s busiest and most beautiful model, always on the go.” 

Sehun opened his mouth to respond before his phone buzzed again. He shook his head and checked his messages. Whatever he read caused his expression to crumple. 

“My manager’s wondering where I am. I guess it’s time to fly off to the next job,” he said. 

Fly off to the next corner of the world. Fly further away from here. 

“Can’t you stay?” Jongdae said before he lost his bravery, “Don’t you want to stay?” 

“I do,” Sehun said, his smile small, his gaze soft, “But I can’t. I do, but adieu.” 

Jongdae tightened his grasp on Sehun’s hand. Maybe if he held on tighter, then Sehun wouldn’t go. 

“Let’s meet again when you come back to Seoul,” Jongdae said. 

Sehun nodded. 

“I’d like that very much,” Sehun said. 

There were no kisses exchanged, no tears shed. No more good-byes, not another adieu. Just a look, a smile, and a sigh before Sehun disappeared under the darkening sky that was once blue.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Saying good-bye had taken longer than Jongdae had anticipated, so it was only after he was finally alone that he realized he should have started heading towards the airport fifteen minutes ago. At least the frenzied rush, the desperate prayers for mild traffic would distract him. 

But traffic towards the airport was miserable, and Jongdae nervously checked his phone every few seconds to make sure the time hadn’t escaped him while he was stuck here.

Inside the airport was no better, as Jongdae frantically searched for his boarding pass he swore he printed out this morning. Eventually, he conceded and ran to the check-in kiosk, forced to scan his passport three times on the machine until he was finally able to print out his boarding pass. And of course the TSA line was long, Jongdae cursing under his breath while he craned his neck, trying to count how many people were still in line ahead of him.

Jongdae thought he would easily make his flight with ten minutes to spare, but it was only after he was halfway to his terminal that he realized he had forgotten his bag, of all things to forget. Luckily it hadn’t been stolen, but Jongdae was forced to sprint through the terminals, shouting out apologies as he dodged past slower travelers. 

He finally reached his terminal five minutes before boarding would start. There, he saw other co-workers looking at him curiously as he passed them, chest heaving, disheveled state and all. Jongdae found an empty seat in front of Jessica and dumped his bag on the ground.   

“Why do you look like…that,” Jessica asked after Jongdae slumped into his seat, letting his limbs sprawl out.   

“Like what?” Jongdae said, panting heavily. 

“Like…a mess,” Jessica said, gesturing vaguely at him, “You work for me, Jongdae. The least you could do is dress the part. What if they don’t let you into first class? Then what? I’ll have wasted money on your ticket.”

“Sorry,” Jongdae muttered, sliding down his seat, “It’s been a long day.” 

Only now could he begin to process everything that had happened. That last smile. That last good-bye. 

“The day’s not even over, Jongdae,” Jessica said. She paused for a moment before she lowered her voice and softened her tone. “What’s wrong?” 

“You would think it’s silly,” Jongdae shook his head. 

Did Sehun mean it when he said they’d talk again? He had looked so genuine, but what if they’d never speak again? What if— 

“I promise I won’t think it’s silly. Unless you’re about to tell me you’ve accidentally lost footage of everything from this trip,” Jessica said. She slipped her sunglasses off of her face and placed them into a sleek, white leather case. 

Jongdae considered that he must have hit maybe a hundred meters from rock bottom if he was really confiding in Jessica, his own boss. But considering international calls weren’t cheap, he couldn’t call Baekhyun right now.

“I met someone in Paris,” Jongdae admitted.   

“Who?” Jessica asked.

“You know,” Jongdae said. 

“I won’t know unless you say it,” Jessica shrugged. After their call two days ago, Jongdae concluded Jessica must already know, so there was no point in saying his name out loud.

Jongdae only pressed his lips together, causing Jessica to wave him aside. 

“Fine. So you met someone here,” Jessica said, “What’s the problem?” 

“It was good. And real,” Jongdae mumbled, dropping his gaze to the ground, “But I don’t know if we’ll see each other ever again. What if this was a one-time thing?” 

Jessica started laughing, hiding her mouth with a hand. When Jongdae only stared at her, she composed herself.   

“You’re serious? That’s it?” Jessica said, “That’s what you’re whining about? Did you even try texting him yet?” 

Jongdae scowled in response, causing Jessica to laugh again. A voice on the intercom announced that business class should line up for boarding now. 

“If it’s as real as you say it is, then why do you think distance would stop you?” Jessica said. She pulled up the handle of her luggage, swung her purse over her shoulder, and began walking towards the line. “You were right. I do think it’s silly. I’d wait until after you at least texted him to panic.” 

Jongdae sighed, grabbing his bag before trailing after her. Usually, Jongdae bought economy tickets whenever he flew, but Jessica had paid for his and his co-workers’ trip, so he stood behind her in the business line. As he waited for his turn to board, he tried to draft a message to Sehun. He supposed Jessica was right. He’d text Sehun first and wait three days for a response before he panicked. 

 _Sorry we didn’t have more time together._  

 _I hope you’re doing well…since the last time I saw you. Which was an hour ago._

_Please tell me you’re coming back home soon._

Jongdae deleted everything, struggling to think of what to say. He looked up after Jessica scolded him for not paying attention to the line, taking five steps ahead to scan his boarding pass. As he offered a smile in return to the worker’s _have a nice flight,_ he felt his phone buzz. 

After checking his messages, he blinked once. Twice. Three times. Just to make sure he was seeing right. 

 _Text me when you land so I know you made it home safely. Have a safe flight!_  

Jongdae saw the heart emoji at the end of the message, the name of the recipient, and almost slumped to the ground in relief right then and there. He pushed his bag to the side and stayed at the entrance of the walkway to send a reply. 

_Thanks, Sehun! You, too!! I hope you have beautiful skies for your whole flight._

People looked at him curiously as they passed him, wondering why he wasn’t boarding, but Jongdae needed that free airport wifi to talk to Sehun now. Forget traffic and long TSA lines. It would be Jongdae’s own fault if he missed his flight, as he stubbornly stood, waiting for a message. A few seconds later, his phone buzzed. 

 _I doubt it. But what good are beautiful skies if you’re not there to see them with me? :)_

Jongdae grinned, about to type a response until he heard someone shouting his name. Across the walkway, Jessica strode towards him. 

“Jongdae. What are you doing here?” Jessica said once she reached him, grabbing his sleeve, “Let’s _go_.” 

Jongdae hastily sent one last message before Jessica pulled him towards the plane. She let go of him after she was certain he'd follow. 

“Everything’s fine now?” Jessica said as she took her seat, “You’re smiling.”

“Yes,” Jongdae said, all but leaping into his own seat next to her by the window. They weren’t in the air yet, but he felt like he was soaring. 

After take-off, Jongdae should have probably tried sleeping since he was booked with a few jobs as soon as he was back. Or he should’ve started working, editing the pictures that he had taken. But all he could do once they were thousands of feet in the air was stare at the clouds.

From here, the sky wasn’t as pretty, the clouds tinged with gray. He couldn’t see Paris anymore, not even a few dots of light below him. 

So adieu to Paris. Adieu to the Louvre. Adieu to the chateau, the macarons, the winding roads, and the pink streaked sky, too. 

But hello to a beginning, and hello to tomorrow. Hello to the days ahead, and hello to Sehun, too. 

Jongdae curled up by the window, closed his eyes, and dreamt of a riverside picnic under a sky that rained blue petals, an instant spent next to someone who smiled brighter than any star.

 

ϟ 

 

It was hard adjusting after Paris.

Jongdae had exactly one day to recover from the jet lag before he went back to work, and it was a day he spent sleeping while keeping his phone’s ringer on in case he’d miss a text from Sehun. The day after that, he dragged himself to work, the fatigue manifesting in a small scowl. Anyone who saw him would know not to argue with anything he’d say. A brave co-worker silently handed him a coffee before walking away. 

Jongdae saw Sehun everywhere he went now. At work, Sehun’s name was whispered among his colleagues, spoken with an air of admiration, of adoration. They referred to Sehun as that boy who stole the whole Louis Vuitton show, that boy who was the best dressed man, that boy who entered Paris a popular, pretty face but left it a rising star. 

All that attention led to Sehun’s schedule booked in seconds, months blocked out in advance. And apparently none of the photographers, brands, and magazines that wanted to work with him thought Seoul was the optimal place for a photoshoot, so it’d be a while before Sehun would come back home. 

But that was fine. They would have to be content with text messages and video calls, and they were.   

Every time Jongdae sent a message during the day, he’d receive a reply during the night. Occasionally, it was a message he wouldn’t even see until he woke up. Sometimes they were lucky and caught each other while they were both still awake, both still free, and messaged each other back in forth constantly. Other times, they missed each other by hours, only able to send and receive a message every day.

One message every day meant a conversation stilted and dragged out over a week. A conversation that could’ve been finished in a day or an hour if they had the time. 

Jongdae made it a habit to leave a message meant for Sehun’s day in parentheses. One message to continue the conversation, and another to wish Sehun well no matter the time. 

_Yeah I have a couple photoshoots, some for the magazine, and some freelance. What about you? Tell your manager I’ll fight him if he’s been overbooking you._

_(Have an amazing way when you wake up, angel)_  

Jongdae glanced around him, wondering if anyone from work could see what he was typing. He was waiting for some models to arrive for today’s shoot, so he took the time to leave some messages before he would be busy. After a minute of staring at his message, he backspaced and deleted _angel_ , not brave enough to say it. Yet. 

He passed the rest of his day with his phone in his pocket and his ringer on. Whenever his phone buzzed, Jongdae continued working, knowing full well that it couldn’t possibly be Sehun because he was hopefully still asleep on the other side of the world. But that didn’t stop Jongdae from pretending that maybe this time it was Sehun. Maybe this time it was him instead of some work email.

After a long work day, half of it spent criticizing these inexperienced models who took hours to do a shoot Sehun could have done in minutes, Jongdae prepared to go home. While discussing last minute notes with the producer and turning down a party invitation from his co-workers, Jongdae felt his phone buzz, signaling an incoming call. There was only one person who knew his schedule well enough to call him when he was nearly done with work. 

“Jongdae,” Baekhyun’s voice greeted him as soon as he picked up, “You. Me. Dinner tonight. It’s been long enough, and we have _so_ —”

“Baekhyun,” Jongdae slowly said, “You need to let me know three to five business days ahead of time if you want to have dinner.” 

He was joking, but he meant it to people who weren’t his best friend. Baekhyun privilege was calling Jongdae ten minutes before he wanted to go out and successfully dragging Jongdae out of his house. Baekhyun privilege was convincing Jongdae to cancel plans he had made months ago so they could spend time together. But for anyone else who tried to make plans with him an hour before they wanted to meet, Jongdae would refuse to even leave his room. Three to five business days were required to schedule a hang out with Jongdae. For Baekhyun, it was three to five business minutes. 

“When have I ever let that stop me?” Baekhyun said, “And you need to tell me everything that happened in Paris. You can’t just tell me you’ve met a beautiful boy and stop there. You haven’t responded to any of my texts about him.” 

Jongdae saw Baekhyun almost always, so they weren’t really good with texting because there was no need. They saved all their stories to tell each other in person anyways.

“Fine, fine,” Jongdae said. He pressed his phone between his cheek and shoulder so he could pack away his camera, “Let’s meet. Tell me what you’ve been up to.” 

“Great!” Baekhyun said, “I’ll meet you at the same place in ten minutes.” 

After Jongdae thanked the crew and said his good-byes for the day, he headed towards the subway where he disappeared into a sea of anonymous faces, people tiredly going home, other people starting their night. At his stop, he climbed the stairs upwards to find black taxis and cars whirring past him. On his left was a street full of food trucks and food stands. Jongdae was tempted to pick up a quick snack, but he turned the other way and headed towards his meeting spot. 

As he walked, he wondered if he had ever unknowingly crossed paths with Sehun here before. Maybe they had gone to the same concert, shopped at the same malls. But then again, there was no way Jongdae would have seen him until Paris because he would’ve definitely remembered someone as beautiful as Sehun. 

A few minutes later, he arrived at an outdoor restaurant where all the tables and grills were covered by a large tent. Baekhyun waved at him from a table he was already seated at. It seemed Baekhyun had already ordered for them both, their table full with side dishes and raw meat. 

“What’s up,” Baekhyun said, leaping up and pulling him into a tight hug. He tousled Jongdae’s hair before sitting down and giving him a big smile “I missed you. Those few days without you? Not to be dramatic, but I almost died.” 

“I missed you, too, Baekhyun,” Jongdae smiled, picking up a pair of tongs and placing the meat onto the grill. The meat sizzled and crackled, sending steam and smoke wafting through the air. 

“So…this guy you met,” Baekhyun said. 

“What about him,” Jongdae muttered, keeping his eyes on the meat, unaware of how quickly his cheeks had reddened. 

“Oh my god,” Baekhyun laughed, pointing at Jongdae, “Your face is already red.” 

Jongdae swatted his hands away with a whine and dropped the tongs on the table before pressing the backs of his hands to his cheeks. 

“It’s this burning _fire_ , Baekhyun,” Jongdae said. Baekhyun only laughed and picked up the tongs to flip the meat over. He waited a few more moments before placing some on his plate and the rest on Jongdae’s.  

“He’s really got you that whipped after only a few days huh,” Baekhyun said, “I bet he’s a model or something.”

“He…is a model,” Jongdae confirmed, poking at his food with chopsticks as he gave it a second to cool, “like…the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.” 

“The _second_ most beautiful person you’ve ever met,” Baekhyun said, twirling a finger around his own face, “Clearly. But what’s his name?” 

“Sehun,” Jongdae said, finally picking up his food and taking a bite. 

Baekhyun let out a gasp, slamming his chopsticks down on the table and earning a look from everyone in their immediate vicinity. 

“ _No_ ,” Baekhyun said after Jongdae harshly whispered at him to shut the fuck up and lower his voice, “You mean Oh Sehun?”

“How come I’m the one working in the industry and I’ve never heard of him before?” Jongdae asked. 

“Because you only care about your camera and your work,” Baekhyun said, waving him away before he leaned across the table. He lowered his voice to a whisper, but since this was Baekhyun after all, it was still loud. “But you’re serious? Sehun? Oh Sehun?” 

Jongdae nodded. That Sehun. _The_ Sehun. 

“Oh my god,” Baekhyun shook his head in disbelief. He shoved a spoonful of rice in his mouth, staring at Jongdae with wide eyes. “Oh my _god_.”   

“I met him on the job,” Jongdae continued, “He was the model for a front-page cover shoot.”

“ _Oh my god_ ,” Baekhyun raised his voice, slurping his soda without looking away from Jongdae, “Tell me more. Tell me _everything_. Was that how you first met? What was the first thing you said to him? Did you give him your number? Did you go on a fucking _date_?” 

Jongdae would have liked to recount the whole entire trip in one go, but Baekhyun constantly interrupted him with questions. 

“Did he really say that to you?”

“Yes.”

“Did he really touch your arm like that?”

“Yes.”

“Did you really fall that fast?”

“ _Yes._ ” 

Even after an hour, Jongdae was still trying to convince Baekhyun that this was absolutely nothing serious, that he took back what he said earlier about falling for Sehun that fast. Which only made Baekhyun rightfully conclude that this was absolutely serious, and he had most definitely fallen that fast. 

“Look at that,” Baekhyun grinned, “Mr. Kim Jongdae falling for someone for the first time in years. If I’d known you were into models, then I would’ve—” 

“I’m not into models, Baekhyun. Sehun just happens to be one,” Jongdae hiding his face behind his hands, “You know that. I work with them every day, but this…”

But Sehun.

“Damn,” Baekhyun said, “You are so whipped, and you’ve known him for barely a week. Your boyfriend is a fucking m—" 

“He’s not,” Jongdae cut him off with a correction, “We left before we could figure everything out. Now I’m waiting for his texts to stop, if I’m honest.” 

Who survived distance, after all? Who survived time? 

“No way,” Baekhyun shook his head, “If he’s still texting you, then he’s still interested.” 

Jongdae shrugged. 

“It’s easier to assume he’ll stop texting me and we’ll go on to live our lives separately,” Jongdae said. If he anticipated brevity instead of infinity, then it would hurt less if this ended soon. 

“But you _want_ to keep talking to him, right?” Baekhyun asked. From the smug smile on his face, he already had his answer. He just wanted to hear Jongdae admit everything out loud. 

“Yeah,” Jongdae mumbled, “Of course I want that. He’s…” 

He trailed off, but Baekhyun understood. 

“But what if in the future he grows tired of me?” Jongdae asked. 

“I know you’re probably five years deep into your planner,” Baekhyun said, picking up his glass to finish the last dregs of soda, “But just enjoy what you have right now, Jongdae. Fuck the future.”

But after Jongdae said his good-byes for the day, heading home around midnight, the future was all he thought about. He had a dentist’s appointment tomorrow, a meeting with the set designer later this week to discuss the aesthetics for an upcoming shoot, a company dinner in the next month, and— 

Jongdae’s phone buzzed, and out of habit, he checked and grinned instantly. 

 _Sehun._  

Sehun was waiting at a fitting, so he had snuck his phone out to talk to him. He had wanted to call Jongdae, but he feared his manager would scold him. Jongdae hurried home, his eyes cast downwards as he texted Sehun, ignoring the taxis and the flickering city lights that that he walked past. 

At home, Jongdae brought his phone into the bathroom and brushed his teeth, letting his toothbrush dangle out of his mouth as he responded. Sometimes he couldn’t even bother to put down his phone because they were sending messages so fast. 

 _It was a busy day, but could you believe some of my co-workers were going to a party afterwards?_ He texted when Sehun asked him about his day. 

 _Did you go?_  

 _If I had gone, I would’ve missed your messages._  

That was a lie. Jongdae would’ve dropped everything to talk to Sehun. 

 _Aw. You should have gone. Say yes to more things, Jongdae. You never know if it might be fun._

Jongdae sent him back a vague string of emojis before echoing his question. And finally, after trading messages about each other’s day, messages of anything at all, messages of how they missed each other, three hours had passed. 

 _Go to bed! Isn’t it late?_ _You’ll be tired tomorrow :(((_ Sehun told him. It only seemed like minutes had passed since Sehun first texted him, so Jongdae blankly stared at the time after he checked the hour. 3 AM? How could hours feel like a second and a moment nothing at all? 

Jongdae yawned and admitted Sehun was right. 

 _But I want to talk to you more :(((_ he complained. 

 _Tomorrow. There’s always tomorrow_ Sehun assured him. 

Jongdae conceded and sent Sehun a pouting emoji. 

 _Good night, Jongdae. Have sweet dreams!!!!_ Sehun wrote back, sending a series of moon, star, and night emojis.

 _Good morning, Sehun. Have a beautiful day ahead_ Jongdae replied, sending a row of stars and suns. His finger hovered over a heart emoji. The blue one. Blue like the irises Sehun loved.

Jongdae jabbed his finger three times over the hearts, sent them before he could think twice, and dropped his phone on his nightstand. He shut his eyes and prayed that he’d fall asleep before he’d overthink what he just did. 

He received a message a second later, and despite himself, he reached over his bed to pick up his phone, finding his heart racing out of nowhere. The light from the screen lit up the darkness, and he blinked hard as he stared at what Sehun had sent back. Oh, he’d never be able to sleep now. Not if he kept thinking at what he saw. 

Ten blue hearts sent back.  

 

ϟ

 

Jongdae suspected that he would have to wait months to meet Sehun again in Seoul after listening to all the schedules Sehun's manager had planned for him. Sehun confirmed this when he had resignedly told Jongdae he could not come home until at least the end of the year. Eight months away. 

Jongdae knew what he was doing in eight month’s time. Attending one of his college friend’s wedding, visiting his family, and now spending more time with Sehun in person. 

So if they could not meet in person for now, they met through the ways they could. Face to face through the screen of their phones, voice to voice when Sehun couldn’t facetime, and heart to heart when they texted each other and sent increasingly longer lines of heart emojis. And honestly, Jongdae thought that Baekhyun was the only person he’d drop his schedule for, but every time he received a text out of nowhere from Sehun asking him if he was free to chat, then Jongdae was free to chat no matter what he was in the middle of doing. If he didn’t have work, he’d give every second of his day to Sehun until one of them had to sleep. 

Jongdae had no idea what they were, but he liked calling their facetime chats their little dates. He’d eat breakfast when Sehun ate dinner, dinner and lunch, or lunch and dinner, depending on where they were. That’s just how things were for now. He would have the sun for company while the moon watched over Sehun while he slept. 

On Sunday afternoons, Jongdae would bring Sehun with him while he was walking through the streets. People sometimes gave him strange looks while they watched him seemingly talk to himself and hold up his phone.

But Jongdae didn’t care. 

Sehun was homesick often, so Jongdae didn’t care if he had to stand on a bench to show the best view of the Han River for Sehun or if he had to squeeze himself to the front of a crowd in Hongdae to show him the latest street performers. 

Sehun asked to see Seoul’s sky most often. 

“What does the sky look like today?” Sehun yawned. He laid on his side, holding a pillow for comfort. “I haven’t been home in so long. Think of all the sunsets by the Han River I’ve missed. Tragic.”

Jongdae raised his phone out, switched cameras on his phone, and slowly panned the shot across the horizon so Sehun could take a good look. 

“How was that? Was that one of your top ten skies of all time?” Jongdae said once he switched back the camera to show his face.

“I like this view better,” Sehun said, his eyes fluttering slowly. It wouldn’t be long until he fell asleep. Jongdae regretted that he couldn’t be with him in person, wanting to hold Sehun and sing to him until he fell asleep. 

“You’re only saying that because you’re drowsy,” Jongdae said instead, the song he imagined singing Sehun hidden in his heart for now.

“Aren’t people more honest when they’re sleepy,” Sehun said, letting another long yawn. 

“I don’t know about that,” Jongdae said, “when I’m sleepy at work, I’m only more irritable.” 

Sehun let out a soft laugh, one that reverberated in Jongdae’s heart.   

“Wanna play the game again?” Sehun murmured, “the Paris game?” 

They had left many things in Paris, but this game was not one of them, as they often played it when they ran out of work to complain about, ran out of heart to continue telling each other they missed each other’s presences. 

“We’ll play until you fall asleep,” Jongdae said, “How’s that?” 

Sehun nodded in response.

“You do know you’re going to fall asleep in less than ten minutes, and there’s nothing you can do about it,” Jongdae said. He liked starting easy, guessing the most obvious things before making bolder assumptions. 

A slow smile tugged at the corners of Sehun’s lips. 

“Yeah, I do. Maybe even less than ten,” he said. 

“You’ve got a big day tomorrow, so you should have slept hours ago,” Jongdae said. Another easy assumption. And when wasn’t Sehun busy with an important schedule? 

“Hey. You do the same thing when it’s the sun’s turn to visit me and the moon to visit you,” Sehun said, his eyes fluttering again. Jongdae’s screen suddenly panned to the pillow Sehun was holding, as if Sehun was too tired to hold his phone tightly enough. Seconds later, Jongdae heard another yawn before Sehun readjusted the screen to his face.

“You should sleep now,” Jongdae said. This wasn’t an assumption, just a suggestion. “You need your beauty sleep.” 

Not that a few hours less of sleep would make Sehun abruptly ugly out of nowhere, no. Even if that’s what Sehun’s manager told him to scare him to sleep. 

“Wrong. I don’t need sleep when I have you,” Sehun said, “So it’s my turn.” 

Jongdae waited for Sehun to say something, but Sehun had closed his eyes and only breathed, his face sinking deeper into the pillow he held. Jongdae was about to tell him good night before Sehun spoke. Softly. So softly Jongdae had to turn up the volume to hear him clearly.

“I want to be there with you, Jongdae,” Sehun said, “and you want to be here with me, too.” 

Jongdae looked away from the screen for a second to admire the blue horizon in front of him, a sight he wished he could share in person with Sehun. He then looked back, finding Sehun seemingly asleep. 

“Yes, I do,” Jongdae said with a smile, “Of course I do.”

 

ϟ

 

Sure, Sehun was far away, perpetually crossing between more time zones than Jongdae could remember. But that didn’t mean that Jongdae couldn’t support him and spoil him like he deserved. After he made Sehun tell him what luxury hotel he was staying at, Jongdae would make a few phone calls and break his bank a little. 

But the sight of his bank account plummeting faster than Jessica’s mood on the day the air conditioning in her office broke was all worth it if it would make Sehun smile.

Every time Sehun opened the door to his hotel room, a place he’d have to call home until he finished his job, he’d find a large arrangement of irises waiting for him on a table. 

The first time Jongdae had sent flowers, a month after they had met, Sehun had facetimed him immediately, a call Jongdae snuck out of an office meeting to take. 

“Jongdae!” Sehun loudly greeted him, causing Jongdae to fumble in his pockets for his headphones. 

“Sehun,” Jongdae said after finding an empty hallway to hide in, “Hey. How are you?” 

“I’m _fantastic_ ,” Sehun grinned. The wifi on Sehun’s end was either poor or Sehun was jumping up and down too quickly for his phone to keep up with. “I just got to the hotel, and…” 

He flipped the cameras on his phone to show Jongdae what he had found. 

“So you received them,” Jongdae smiled, “I’m glad. You wouldn’t believe the amount of phone calls I had to make, but…anything for you of course.” 

Sehun turned the camera back to show his smiling face. 

“Thank you, Jongdae,” Sehun smiled, “That’s so sweet of you. I really love them.” 

“Anything to make you smile,” Jongdae said. He listened to Sehun coo over the flowers, remarking how lovely they were before he heard someone call his name. With disappointment, Jongdae peeked around the corner of the hall to find a co-worker looking for him. Fuck. That meeting. 

“I think I have to go,” Jongdae hastily said, “But I’ll text you. I’ll call you when we’re both awake. Okay?” 

“Okay,” Sehun said. He let out a sigh, but nothing could dim the brightness in his gaze, the fondness in his eyes. “One more thing. I’m going to send you flowers until you figure out which one is your favorite. Okay?” 

“You can try,” Jongdae smiled, “I’ll tell you when I figure it out. Good night, Sehun. Sleep well.”

“Good morning, Jongdae,” Sehun said, “Have a good day today.” 

Jongdae disconnected the call before he was tempted to linger and admire Sehun’s face any longer and hurried back to his meeting. 

Jessica stared at him suspiciously once he returned, which was Jongdae’s cue to drop the slight smile from his face and replace his dreamy look with a more serious one. 

“What did I miss?” Jongdae said, tapping a finger on his desk as his phone buzzed in his pocket. He shouldn’t check. 

“The theme of next month’s issue,” Jessica said after a long pause and an even longer, scrutinizing look, “Do pay attention, Jongdae. Every minute of these meetings is important.” 

“Sorry,” Jongdae said. 

He was distracted for the rest of the meeting, preferring to think about the way Sehun had smiled when he smelled the irises instead of the way he’d probably have to wake up even earlier next week to attend all the meetings and photoshoots. 

“Jongdae,” Jessica said, snapping him out of his thoughts, “Can you repeat what I just said?” 

Jongdae took a minute to scramble for an apology, a lie, but after looking at the time, he’d found his excuse. 

“Yeah. Good meeting, and see you tomorrow around the office,” Jongdae said. His co-workers shrugged and stood up, all leaving the conference room. 

Jessica shook her head, picked up her folders, and strode past Jongdae.

“You’re so obvious. Tell Sehun I said hello,” she said, her heels clicking down the hall.

Jongdae ducked his head down and smiled, packing away his notes and heading home. Two of his co-workers had invited him to go clubbing, but he turned them down. He’d made plans to have dinner with Baekhyun after all. A dinner in which Baekhyun wasted no time before asking if there were any updates from Sehun. He had called Sehun once while they were together, as Baekhyun had begged Jongdae to meet him. But that was a mistake, as Baekhyun had stolen Jongdae’s phone once the call connected and chattered about how much Jongdae talked about Sehun. 

A large arrangement of red roses outside his apartment surprised Jongdae after dinner. Jongdae carried them inside and placed them on his dining table while humming a cheerful tune. He leaned in to smell its sweet fragrance, admiring every perfect petal, every clipped thorn, before finally noticing the small envelope. Inside was a message written on a piece of sky-blue paper. 

_I started with roses because who doesn’t like roses?_

_Sehun x_

With a finger, Jongdae traced the heart Sehun had drawn on the note, thinking of how he had lived this long without Sehun in his life. How he wanted to continue living like this. How there were seven months left until they’d meet again. 

Seven months. 

Jongdae never stopped smiling as he sent Sehun a thank you message. 

_Thank you, Sehun! I love them! How did you send them so quickly?_

He did some work without receiving a reply, got ready for bed without a single buzz, and climbed into bed to find only a few messages from Baekhyun and work. But that was okay. Sehun would text him when he had the time. It was fine. 

When Jongdae woke up the next day, sure enough, he had his reply.

_Anything’s possible when it’s done for you :) Are these your favorite flowers?_

Jongdae stretched, blearily looking across the room at the roses. Sure, they were nice, but who didn’t love roses? 

_No, but I still love them :3_

He received a response three hours later. 

 _I’m determined to make you find your favorite flower!! Just wait, Jongdae!!!!!_  

Over the next few months, Sehun checked into countless hotels and found arrangements of irises waiting for him in his room every time. Jongdae came home to find everything from hydrangeas, daisies, and once even a basket of poinsettias waiting for him on his doorstep, too. If only they could deliver the flowers to each other, right? 

None of the flowers Jongdae had received were his favorite, but he didn’t know why. He appreciated everything he received from Sehun, but these didn’t feel right. But Sehun wouldn’t give up, no matter how many flowers it would take. 

“Do you like these carnations? Are they your favorite?” Sehun asked one day. 

“Do you want me dead?” Jongdae laughed as he stared at all the white flowers that he had moved to his dining table, “Aren’t white flowers for funerals?”

“Oh!” Sehun said, throwing a hand over his mouth, “Do they really mean that? Sorry, Jongdae.” 

“I get it,” Jongdae teased, “You’ll see me in a coffin the next time.” 

“Don’t say that,” Sehun protested, “Never say that. We’ll meet at the end of the year in perfect health.” 

Jongdae hummed in response, counting the days and months all over again. 

“Do you like these fuchsias? Are they your favorite?” Sehun asked two weeks later when he sent not a tiny pot, not a bouquet, but a whole tree full of flowers. 

“I do, but they’re not my favorite,” Jongdae said, examining the purple flowers that hung from the branches. After all, what flower grew away from the sun? Who could shy away from the light and face the ground instead? 

“Do you like these marigolds?” Sehun asked another time.   

“I do, but they’re not my favorite,” Jongdae admitted. They looked like golden suns, but didn’t Sehun know he outshone every sun there was? 

“I won’t stop sending you flowers until I figure it out,” Sehun promised. 

Jongdae appreciated the flowers, but he hated to see them wither, hated to see them die. Instead, he saved one flower from each arrangement and pressed them into books when it was time to throw the others away. He always liked to say that he searched for the present in his photos, and yet here he was collecting fragments of the past, unable to let them go. 

He had collected nine flowers scattered throughout books he placed on his coffee table until Sehun finally had his answer. 

The answer came to Jongdae when he least expected it, on a terrible day. A day he was forced to work late after half the staff showed up an hour late. A day the producer decided halfway through the shoot that he wanted to change the concept. A day he had almost dropped his camera on the floor because he was distracted. Just one of those days. 

But after he saw another arrangement of flowers waiting for him on his doorstep when he trudged home, nothing felt wrong anymore. He picked up the envelope resting between a cluster of leaves and opened it to find familiar handwriting written on a piece of paper as blue as the sky.  

_You always to tell me to focus on now, right? I’ve tried, but what’s the point if you’re not here now? You’ll be by my side in the future, so that’s where I’ll be. Find me in the tomorrows, in the months from now, in the years from now._

_\- Sehun x._

As Jongdae smiled for the first time that day, he realized which flower was his favorite, which person was his favorite as he turned his attention to the delicate blue petals and spikes of gold beside him. 

Irises.

 

ϟ

  

They met in Los Angeles a month later. Or, at least that’s what Jongdae liked to pretend. Jessica had sent him there to cover LA’s fashion week alone, and with Louis Vuitton not making an appearance, Sehun was of course not here. 

After photographing models that were obviously not as stunning as Sehun, Jongdae spent the next two days enjoying himself. Somehow he had been invited to a few exclusive clubs and parties, but he had declined all events anyways, like he always did. If Sehun were here, he would want to explore the city together, but he wasn’t, so another facetime date would have to do.

This morning, he had visited a beach, sitting on a bench at the pier as he watched the ocean in front of him. Faded mountains loomed in the distance, beautiful blue waves kissed the sand, and clouds slowly crawled above his head. By a cruel twist of fate, Sehun was working in Jeju Island right now, filming a tourism advertisement, doomed to leave as soon as Jongdae would return home.

“Isn’t Santa Monica one of the most famous beaches to visit in LA?” Sehun asked. He was nestled in bed again, pulling the blanket and sheets towards his face for comfort. “Why are you at this one?”

“The employee at the hotel I’m staying at said that Santa Monica pier is overrated. It’s too…touristy. Third Street Promenade is the most interesting place to visit there, but I don’t have anyone to shop with,” Jongdae said, earning a sigh from Sehun, “So I’m here at this beach. It’s quieter, but still beautiful.” 

He held out his phone again and panned it across the horizon to show Sehun the view. 

“Come here with me one day,” Jongdae said, not brave enough to switch the camera back to his face as he spoke. 

“Of course,” Sehun nodded, “Let’s travel the world together. Don’t you think that’d be fun?”

“Yes,” Jongdae said, closing his eyes and imagining what this trip would be like if Sehun had come with him. Perhaps he could have placed his arm over Sehun’s shoulder as they sat here splitting a pizza from the nearby restaurant. Maybe Sehun would have rested his head against Jongdae’s shoulder and fallen asleep just like that. Maybe Jongdae would have been brave enough to tilt Sehun’s chin up with a finger and kiss him.

“I do.” 

But that was only one possibility of the future. One possibility that the present moment refused to give him. 

Jongdae finally switched his camera back so he could face Sehun. All tourists were photographers, but today, the only thing Jongdae took pictures of was Sehun’s face as he screenshotted their call during moments he looked especially cute. Like now. 

Jongdae checked the time, converted it to Sehun’s time zone, and sighed.

“You should sleep,” Jongdae said after hearing Sehun yawn, “It’s late.” 

“No,” Sehun stubbornly said even as his eyes were closing once again. He struggled to keep them open, blinking hard. “I’ll sleep when you hang up.” 

“Then I’ll hang up right now,” Jongdae threatened. 

“Don’t! I’m not sleepy. I’m—” Sehun began to protest before another yawn smothered out anything he wanted to say.  

“Yes you are,” Jongdae smiled, “It’s okay. We’ll talk later.” 

“That’s not fair,” Sehun said, his lower lip dropping down into a pout. With a laugh, Jongdae quickly screenshotted the image of that for later. 

“Go to bed,” Jongdae urged with a softer voice, “You’re tired.” 

“Only if you sing something for me,” Sehun said. 

Jongdae had dreamt of singing Sehun to sleep in person, with their limbs tangled together, but for now, this would have to do. He didn’t care that there were people walking behind him, people surfing below him, and only moved his phone closer to his face. 

“Do you have any requests?” Jongdae asked. 

“Do you remember that song we heard in Paris? While we were sitting by the Seine?” Sehun asked. 

“How could I forget?” Jongdae asked, “How could I forget any of it?”

If he squinted, he could try and pretend this Los Angeles sky was the same sky they had seen together all those months ago. But it wasn’t the same. There were no pink streaks, only a clear stretch of bold blue. 

“That one please,” Sehun said, “Paris please. Take me back to a time where we were together please.”

Jongdae began to sing, forgetting some of the lyrics, but neither cared. They were on separate ends of the world, but now, at least they could pretend they were sitting on the banks of the river together again, their picnic basket in front of them, something blossoming between them. 

Jongdae sang until Sehun could not open his eyes any longer. 

“Hello?” Jongdae whispered in case Sehun was awake. 

When he was certain Sehun was asleep, he continued talking. 

“We’ll come back here one day,” Jongdae promised, “There’s a museum that houses Vincent van Gogh’s painting of irises. Let’s see it together. You and me.” 

Whenever one day was.

Whenever together would be.

 

ϟ

 

They met again in Italy two weeks later. Jongdae had always wanted to visit Rome, Venice, and Milan, but for now he lived vicariously through Sehun who had been sent there for Milan’s fashion week. Jongdae had begged Jessica to let him cover the event, but Jessica had sent different photographers instead.

The time difference was no better, and whenever they found the time to call each other, Jongdae was on the verge of falling asleep. Sehun’s 8PM was his 3AM, so Jongdae’s sleep was a sacrifice for a short conversation. 

During this call, Sehun was enjoying a few hours off, sitting near a crowded square. He had shown Jongdae the cobblestone roads, the fruit and vegetable stands around him, and all the pigeons flocking around tables looking for bread crumbs. But Jongdae thought the best view was Sehun. It was a shame his chic sunglasses shielded half of his face today. 

“Did the irises arrive this time?” Jongdae asked once Sehun finished showing him an old woman feeding a flock of pigeons a few meters away. “The hotel didn’t seem confident they could find the flowers for you, but I made them understand they were for the world’s best model, so. They had no choice but to succeed.”

“I did. They were beautiful,” Sehun said. He adjusted his phone and propped it upright before spooning out a bite of gelato from a little blue cup. “Thanks, Jongdae. Did you get yours?”

Jongdae dragged himself out from the comfort of his bed and showed Sehun the irises that had arrived today.

“You’re too sweet, Sehun,” Jongdae said, “But I’d prefer it if you sent yourself back here instead. At least we don’t have to wait that long anymore, right? You’re coming back at the end of the year, so it’ll be fine.”

Sehun was silent for a moment, a silence Jongdae filled by humming as he thought of all the things they could do together soon. But honestly being in the same place at the same time would be good enough for him right now. 

“I have another shoot soon,” Sehun said, causing Jongdae to sigh, “so I’m flying out tomorrow.” 

“Another one? You look so tired,” Jongdae said, climbing back into bed. Sehun’s face was slightly pixelated from the poor internet connection, but he heard Sehun’s weariness through the way Sehun spoke slowly and elongated his syllables, the way he rested his chin in the palm of his hand and slumped over the table.

“My manager said that I have to use the momentum and hype from my appearance here and release another front cover soon, so I can’t cancel it,” Sehun said.

“Fuck your manager,” Jongdae said, making a face, “If you want to cancel it, then cancel it.”

But he saw the look on Sehun’s face and continued without giving him a chance to defend the real-life incarnation of satan. 

“Where are you traveling now?” Jongdae asked. 

“Hong Kong,” Sehun said, pausing to savor another spoonful of gelato.

“That’s…not as far away as Italy is,” Jongdae said, trying to be optimistic.   

“Or Los Angeles,” Sehun said. 

Or Paris, they both thought.

“Maybe I should come visit you,” Jongdae said. Perhaps it was the late hour that pried the suggestion from his mouth.

“Actually,” Sehun said, picking up his spoon and raising it in the air, letting melted gelato drip down into his cup, “The photographer for the photoshoot canceled at the last minute, and I suggested you. Why don’t you come?”

Jongdae blinked. 

“You’re joking,” Jongdae said.

“If you’re playing the Paris game right now, you lose,” Sehun smiled, dropping his spoon to give Jongdae his full attention, “Come. I’ll work out the details with my manager and the magazine.” 

“Yes, of _course_ I’d love to come. Thank you for thinking of me,” Jongdae asked, bolting upwards, the slow drag of exhaustion leaving him instantly, “When is it?”

“Well who else would I think of? It’s in a couple of days,” Sehun said. 

A couple of _days_? 

“You’re not busy are you?” Sehun continued to ask, “Don’t worry about it if you’re already booked. I’d hate for you to cancel everything just for a day here.” 

Jongdae mentally checked his schedule for the rest of the week. A couple important meetings with set designers, prop specialists, and producers…One photoshoot…A meeting with Jessica… 

“Not at all,” Jongdae said without hesitating, “I’ll be on the next plane there.” 

“Really?” Sehun said, pushing his sunglasses up to his head as he grinned, “Then don’t worry about that. I’m flying you out myself. First class.” 

It was Jongdae’s turn to rest his cheek in his hand and look fondly at Sehun. If he wasn’t careful, he’d blurt out what his heart was singing right now. 

“Then I’ll see you soon,” Jongdae smiled, “I can’t wait.” 

They talked a little longer that night, making plans for the days after tomorrow, laughing and smiling until Jongdae fell asleep. 

The next day Jongdae awoke, faced with the consequences of such a hasty decision. It took him ten minutes to muster up the courage before he made a call. 

“Jessica,” he said when the call connected, “Hello.”  

“Yes?” she said, “What do you want?” 

“What, I can’t check on how the best boss and editor of all time is doing?” Jongdae said, pacing around his room. One wrong word, and he’d never be allowed to go. 

“You never call for that,” Jessica flatly said, “What did you do wrong? Or what do you want?” 

Jessica was too good. Nothing could escape her. 

“I’m taking the next two days off,” Jongdae said. It was better to phrase his request as a statement rather than a question, to announce what he was doing rather than ask for permission. 

“Why? You are aware that this is a busy week for you, right?” Jessica asked, “It isn’t like you to cancel things you’ve scheduled months in advance.” 

“I know,” Jongdae said before he hesitated, “But…Sehun needs a photographer, so I’m flying out to do his shoot.” 

“Of course this is about Sehun,” Jessica muttered before she raised her voice, “I want to why you waited until the last minute to cancel your whole schedule. I’m going to scramble to find new photographers, Jongdae.” 

“He asked me last minute,” Jongdae said, walking towards his living room and to sit on the couch. He stared at the arrangement of irises in front of him, still in full bloom, still thriving. 

“So you have to go?” Jessica said, “Has he ever quit his job or canceled a schedule for you? Why are you doing this?” 

Jongdae remained silent. It wouldn’t help him if he told her Sehun had never canceled a schedule before even when he was exhausted. 

“Can I, or can I not?” Jongdae said instead, “I’ll find my replacements and take care of everything before I go.” 

“Listen, Jongdae. Do you know how I got to where I am? Editor of one of the best magazines in the world…and designer of my own brand?” Jessica asked. Jongdae rubbed his face with a hand and hoped he wouldn’t receive one of her lectures. The last one had lasted fifteen minutes before he hastily made an excuse and fled. 

“You worked hard. Obviously. And you didn’t let anyone tell you no,” Jongdae said, omitting the next part of his argument, _so you can’t tell me no_.

“Yes,” Jessica said, “I made sacrifices and worked hard. But do you know the only things  I canceled my own meetings and rearranged my schedule for? Family. Friends. Love. So tell me, Jongdae…Is this love?” 

Jongdae didn’t hesitate. 

Didn’t even blink. 

Didn’t even think. 

“Yes.” 

“Yes it is.” 

“Then go.”

 

ϟ 

 

After scrambling to find his replacements, sending the crew his notes for the photoshoot he was missing, and working triple time to coordinate with the producer of Sehun’s photoshoot, Jongdae finally stepped onto his flight and crashed, only awaking when the flight attendant gently woke him up for landing. And as soon as the plane touched down, Jongdae grabbed his bag and raced off the plane and sped through the terminal. Baekhyun had told him he was wild for flying to Hong Kong for a one-day gig, a one-day date. He had also wondered since when did Jongdae make last minute plans, agreeing to something in three to five business seconds? 

Since Sehun. 

If Jongdae had the time, he would have stayed to peruse the shops and take a break to eat. If he had the time, he would have visited the moon cake shop here to pick up some lotus moon cake for Jessica, red bean for Baekhyun. 

But the more time he wasted in the airport meant less time with Sehun, so here he was weaving in and out of the crowd that was walking too slow for his liking. People often ran to catch their flights, elbowing their way through the TSA line if they were late. But who ever ran out of an airport like Jongdae did, so determined to catch a taxi in the next seconds? 

“Excuse me,” Jongdae said after someone shot him a look for almost running their foot over with his bag.

He kept his gaze upwards, following the signs that would lead him outside. There was only one final stretch left before he burst into baggage claim, seeing a crowd of people waiting for family members, friends, and associates. 

It should have been impossible to immediately recognize anyone here in the sea of countless faces, but Jongdae stopped in his tracks when he saw a tall figure. He took another step closer, staring at the person wearing sunglasses, a hood over his head, and a face mask. 

He heard a voice, 

 _Jongdae!_  

saw a wave of a hand. 

 _Here!_  

Jongdae took off again, dragging his luggage behind him. He was sure he accidentally ran over a few people’s feet, but he was too far away to look back and say sorry now. After leaping over the barrier and hoisting his bag over with him, he threw himself into Sehun’s arms and hugged him tightly. 

“Your hair is orange,” Jongdae said with a smile, pulling back Sehun’s hood to examine this new look further. 

“Do you like it?” Sehun asked, slipping down his mask to reveal a dazzling smile. 

“Hmmm,” Jongdae said, running his fingers through Sehun’s hair, “You can pull off any color, so obviously you look beautiful. But I prefer your black hair, if I’m honest.” 

“Why?” Sehun asked, placing a hand over his chest to fake offense, “Because I had black hair in Paris?” 

“Maybe,” Jongdae laughed. 

“I like black hair on you, too,” Sehun said, tousling Jongdae’s hair before he reached for Jongdae’s luggage, “Let me get that for you. The car’s outside.” 

“Oh?” Jongdae sad, “Fancy. You should fly me out more often.” 

“I really should have,” Sehun said a little softer, a little more thoughtful. He paused for a moment as if to continue speaking before he changed his mind and stayed silent. 

Jongdae knew what the pause meant. 

But work. 

“Can you drop me off at the hotel first? I’ll leave my bag at the front desk quickly, and then we’ll head to your photoshoot. If there’s enough time,” Jongdae said as they headed for the exit. 

Sehun’s driver had parked outside the curb and stepped forwards to take care of Jongdae’s bag. Sehun opened the back door of the car, placing his hand over Jongdae’s head as Jongdae stepped inside.

“I was hoping you’d stay with me,” Sehun said before he hastily backtracked when Jongdae said nothing, “If…that’s okay?” 

“Of course that’s okay. I’d love that,” Jongdae smiled, reaching out to take Sehun’s hand in his. 

Sehun began to smile before he smothered his lips with his other hand to stifle a yawn. 

“Why don’t you take a nap?” Jongdae asked. 

“But I want to enjoy this moment with you. I can’t fall asleep if you’re actually here with me,” Sehun said. 

“Being next to you is more than enough,” Jongdae said. With that, he guided Sehun towards his shoulder. Giving up, Sehun pressed his head against the crook of Jongdae’s neck and closed his eyes. Jongdae slid an arm over Sehun’s shoulders and held him as he fell asleep. 

This had to be a dream. 

All of this. 

Jongdae spent the rest of the drive in silence, only murmuring a few words to gently wake Sehun up when the driver parked the car. 

"No," Sehun said, clinging to Jongdae after he stirred, refusing to move, "I don't want to go. I want to stay here." 

"Do you want me to tell them to cancel the photoshoot?" Jongdae said, unbuckling his seat belt. 

Sehun only pressed his face tighter against Jongdae's chest in response. 

"Hm?" Jongdae said, rubbing Sehun's shoulder. Sehun mumbled something, his muffled words unintelligible. 

"Okay," Jongdae said, "I'll tell them to cancel everything, or at least postpone it. You should go to the hotel and rest." 

With that, Sehun slowly pushed himself off of Jongdae. He blearily blinked, staring into nowhere for a moment before he sighed. 

"Let's go," Sehun said, unbuckling his seatbelt, "I can't cancel. My manager will be mad." 

"Fuck your manager," Jongdae muttered under his breath, hurrying out of the car first to help Sehun out. He supported Sehun with a hand on his back, ready to catch him if he stumbled. As they stepped into the building, a few crew members rushed forwards to greet them. Jongdae looked around, pleased there was no sign of Sehun's manager yet. 

"I have to do hair...makeup...and get changed," Sehun said, "so I'll see you in a bit. Make yourself comfortable around here when you set up. If there's anything you want, just tell them you're the world class photographer we hired. And that you're with me."

Sehun winked at him before obediently following the stylists into a room, dragging his feet so his flip flops slapped against the marble floor. 

"See you," Jongdae called out. Sehun turned around and blew him a kiss in response. 

Jongdae jammed his hands in his pockets and searched for the studio, hoping the air conditioning would cool him down before a blush could form. He'd be a liar if he said he didn't dream of kissing Sehun, wondering how his mouth would feel against his, wondering if he could taste tomorrow on Sehun's lips. 

But he was here for work, even if that involved Sehun, so he shook his head and introduced himself to the crew and the producer, who enthusiastically greeted him and thanked him for agreeing to do the shoot on such short notice. The producer hadn't made any changes to the plans they had discussed online, so Jongdae was ready for a smooth shoot without any unforeseeable problems. 

That was, of course, until he saw who was lurking around the edges of the set. If Jongdae wasn't in a professional setting, he'd let the disgust he felt manifest on his expression. But he was, so he civilly nodded in the direction of that person when they locked eyes. 

Sehun's manager. 

Sehun's manager maintained that cold civility, not letting his lips sink anywhere deeper than a displeased frown. But it seemed he wanted to talk, as he started approaching. Jongdae prayed for the capacity to play nice, the energy to be patient, and the self-restraint to stop himself from swinging right then and there.

"I told Sehun this was a bad idea, but he insisted on it," Sehun's manager said without even saying hello, dragging his gaze over Jongdae, “This was the first time he’s ever disagreed with me.” 

Jongdae gritted his teeth and slowly exhaled. 

"I told Sehun to cancel this shoot because he's tired. He's been tired...for so long, and he wants to go home. But you insisted on it, on everything he's been doing," Jongdae said, returning the same pointed  look. 

Sehun's manager sniffed. 

"You don't understand what it takes to maintain his status and help his career grow," he shook his head, "You think he’s got it all because he’s popular? Because he’s beautiful? All models are beautiful, and all models are told they’re not skinny enough, not pretty enough, or not white enough. If he took breaks whenever he felt like it, canceled his schedules just because, then maybe he'd be someone like you. Lucky he's not." 

Jongdae bared his teeth into something resembling a smile to the distant bystander. 

"That doesn’t give you the right to make his schedules without his approval, to make him fly around the world when the only place he wants to be is home. So if you overwork Sehun until he collapses, you're going to hear from me," Jongdae said. And instead of risking his career by throwing a punch, Jongdae brushed past him, roughly bumping against his shoulder.   

He seethed as he waited for the shoot to start, thinking of different arguments to convince Sehun to fire his manager. 

Because he didn't respect Sehun's health. Because he didn't let Sehun choose his own schedules. Because he didn't let Sehun come home in so long.

And because his schedules were the reason why this was the first time they had met face to face in months. 

But all of those dark thoughts swirling around Jongdae's mind instantly disappeared when he saw Sehun step into the room. His orange hair was styled perfectly, and he wore a red button up with the sleeves rolled up. As he approached, thanking and bowing at the rest of the crew, Jongdae noticed little painted designs on Sehun's nails. 

It was a good thing that everyone's attention was on Sehun because if they had looked at Jongdae, they would have seen him staring at Sehun like it was the first time he had seen him. It was also a good thing he had worn his camera around his neck because his fingers were slackening again, and his pulse was racing all over again. 

Sehun's manager grabbed his arm and whispered to him, but Sehun didn't seem to be paying him any attention, only looking straight ahead at Jongdae. It was here under the light of a set lamp that Jongdae realized with a sinking feeling that Sehun still looked tired. Sure, his little dark circles had been concealed by makeup, but he blinked slowly, letting out a yawn every now and then. His behavior might mark him as quiet or standoffish to some people but Jongdae knew better and he hoped everyone else did, too. 

Nonetheless, Jongdae admired Sehun and his work ethic, how he always put his career before himself, before anything else. Jongdae could never do that. He always put sleep before work, family before work, Baekhyun before work. 

And now, Sehun before work. 

"Hey," Sehun said when he stood in front of him, "Are you the model I'm working with?" 

Jongdae let out a laugh, ignoring all the eyes that watched them. 

“Not at all,” Jongdae smiled, “Isn’t there some unspoken rule that you’ve got to be at least six feet to model?” 

Sehun's eyes had crinkled up into little moons, and he hid his smile behind a hand. Jongdae was so in love. 

“I think you’re beautiful enough, so it doesn’t matter,” he said, poking Jongdae's arm with a finger, “What’s your name?” 

"Stay close and you'll figure it out," Jongdae grinned. 

"How close?" Sehun asked. 

“Closer than this,” Jongdae said, his turn to wink at Sehun, "You ready for this, Sehun?" 

“With you? Always,” Sehun smiled.

 

ϟ

 

To neither of their surprise, Jongdae and Sehun finished the shoot hours ahead of schedule.

Sehun's manager had argued that they should take more photos in case half of them were bad, causing Jongdae to laugh. He didn't care his work was being attacked, but really? A bad photo of Sehun? That never existed. 

Thankfully, the producer had scanned through all the photos they had taken, praising Jongdae and Sehun for all the fine work they'd done before he shrugged and said there was nothing else to do. 

What could Jongdae say? 

They worked the best together, effortlessly together, both knowing what each other needed without having to say much. Jongdae knew Sehun's best angles, which was all of them. Sehun, more comfortable with Jongdae than he was with any other photographer, stared at the lens as boldly as he dared, acted as comfortably as he wanted. 

In high spirits, Jongdae led Sehun out of the studio, tugging on his arm with one hand, hoisting his camera bag safely over his shoulder with the other. Sehun's manager had attempted to stop him, scolding Sehun and trying to make him stay the full duration of the photoshoot. But Sehun only shook his head and waved him off. Work was over for the day, so Jongdae allowed himself to flash a smug smirk at Sehun's manager before they disappeared into the night. 

They took a taxi to a restaurant nearby, entering a district full of crowded streets and neon lights. Jongdae took one look at Sehun's tired expression and picked the closest good restaurant he could find. The sooner they ate, the sooner Sehun could rest. 

Inside the restaurant, Sehun spoke to the server in Cantonese and ordered a few dishes for them. Of course Sehun knew Cantonese. Was there anything he couldn't do? Any language he couldn't speak after traveling the world? 

"It's too bad that we only have tonight together," Jongdae sighed when the servers brought out a plate of sea cucumber, mushrooms, and bok choy. He picked up the serving spoon and scooped out a portion for Sehun. "I can't believe I have to catch my flight back tomorrow." 

"Tonight's better than nothing, right?" Sehun said, offering Jongdae a small smile. He picked up a wriggling piece of sea cucumber and popped it into his mouth. "Have you ever had sea cucumber before?" 

"Never," Jongdae said before he frowned, remembering the menu, "Isn't it expensive?" 

He had agreed to whatever Sehun suggested because he'd always give Sehun what he wanted. But as he held the piece of sea cucumber in front of him suspiciously, maybe he should've asked Sehun what he meant when he said "something good but different." 

"I'm treating you tonight, so don't even think about the price tag," Sehun waved him off.

"No?" Jongdae said, "I'm paying? I'm literally paying? I'm not afraid to make a scene if it means winning." 

Sehun shook his head, thanking the waiter who brought out several more dishes and laid them out on their table in front of them.

"Bold of you to assume this dinner is ending with you actually paying," he shrugged. 

"Listen," Jongdae said, pointing at Sehun with his chopsticks. The piece of sea cucumber jiggled as he gesticulated at him. "You're coming at the end of the year, so you can have your chance then. But right now? Forget it." 

Sehun froze as he listened to Jongdae's words, causing his food to slip out of his chopsticks. Jongdae thought that that was the end of the argument, that was the end of any protest from Sehun, and was about to take a bite of his food. Before Sehun bolted out of his seat, throwing down his napkin as he rushed towards the front counter. Jongdae let out a yell, sending the piece of sea cucumber flying as he threw his chopsticks down and tore off after Sehun.

Five minutes and a very weary waiter later, Sehun led Jongdae back to their table and cheerfully handed him a bowl of rice while Jongdae crossed his arms and cursed Sehun's long arms and long legs. 

"I take it back," Jongdae scowled, "When you come back home, I'm paying for anything. Say good-bye to any chance you thought you had."

He was so busy glaring at his plate that he didn't catch the way Sehun's expression slipped for a split second. 

"Oh," Sehun said, his quiet tone causing Jongdae to look up, the scowl sliding off his face, "Jongdae, I—"

Before he could say any more, the server approached him and asked if he would like more water. Sehun nodded quietly and handed over his glass before instructing the server to do the same for Jongdae. 

"What?" Jongdae asked, sitting up straighter, "What's wrong?" 

Sehun shook his head and only continued to eat. Jongdae studied him carefully for another moment before eating faster, finishing all of his sea cucumber, which tasted like savory, slightly hardened jello, and whatever else Sehun had ordered. The sooner they finished, the sooner Sehun could rest. 

But whatever strange mood Sehun had sunken into lasted even after dessert, even after they got into a taxi and drove towards their hotel. Sehun spent the whole ride staring out the window, probably counting the stars he could see in the night sky. He held Jongdae’s hand tightly, rubbing Jongdae’s skin with his thumb. 

When they reached their hotel room, Jongdae switched on the lights to find the irises he had sent Sehun resting on the living room table. Wordlessly, Sehun led Jongdae towards the couch, sitting down and pulling him on his lap. Jongdae slid a leg around the other side of Sehun’s thighs so they could face each other. 

“What’s wrong?” Jongdae asked, pushing Sehun’s bangs from his face. The orange hair made him look younger. Or maybe it was the stricken look that crossed his face. 

Sehun slipped his hands around Jongdae’s waist and held him close.

“Sehun?” Jongdae said, trying to coax an answer from him. 

Sehun took a shaky breath and looked up at Jongdae with wide eyes. 

“I don’t want to look back and realize I’ve missed all these moments while I was busy working,” Sehun said, “It seems only yesterday that I had my first photoshoot, my first job. Where did all the time go?” 

Jongdae stayed silent, letting Sehun speak. His heart clenched for all the wrong reasons, and he so badly wanted to kiss him better, to tell him that things would be fine. 

“Sometimes I can’t even remember what’s happened. All the castings blend together, all the fittings stay the same…Has anything ever happened at all? You’ve been the realest thing to me in so long, and I’m worried I’m losing you, too, if I keep living like this.”

“You won’t lose me,” Jongdae said, lifting up one of Sehun’s hands and pressing it to his chest, “Don’t you feel me? I’m here.” 

Sehun took a deep breath and buried his face in Jongdae’s chest. Jongdae stroked his head, something twisting in his chest. How many other times had Sehun spent his nights alone in his hotel room feeling like this? 

“You always tell me to focus on now, but what do I do when everything’s just a blur? You’re right, Jongdae. The present doesn’t exist. If my future looks exactly like my past…Is it always going to be like this?” Sehun said, taking a shaky breath. 

Jongdae pulled his phone out of his pocket and began scrolling through his camera roll. Sehun watched him in silence, tightening his grip on Jongdae. 

“I think that’s why I like photos,” Jongdae admitted, “A photo doesn’t prove the present, but shows the instant. Look.” 

“This happened,” Jongdae said, showing Sehun a screenshot of one of their video calls when he was in Italy.

“This happened,” Jongdae said, showing Sehun a picture of the first irises he had received.

“This happened,” Jongdae said, flipping to a selfie they had taken in Paris by the Seine, “Do you remember? Things won’t always be one job after the other. Remember these moments, Sehun.” 

Sehun pressed his lips together as he watched the pictures Jongdae showed him flash by. 

“This happened. This happened. This happened,” he said, flipping to more pictures, more moments they shared. “This moment happened even if you might not remember it. This moment happened even if things seem the same today. So just focus on what’s right in front of you. The sky you love so much. Irises. Me. I’m here. Things will be fine…Just breathe, Sehun.” 

Sehun slowly inhaled, but he didn’t seem to be getting any less distressed. He clutched Jongdae’s body tighter, and his eyebrows knitted upwards. 

“I hate that I wake up when you fall asleep,” Sehun said, never looking away from him. Jongdae tilted Sehun’s chin up with a finger, listening to him intently. 

“I hate that you’re on the other side of the world when I want to hold you,” Sehun said, his gaze darting to Jongdae’s lips for a second. 

Jongdae leaned in closer, gently touching Sehun’s face. He wanted to do what he had wanted to do for such a long time. Maybe he’d figure out if Sehun’s lips tasted like— 

“But what I hate the most,” Sehun said, his voice barely a whisper now, “is that I can’t even come back home at the end of the year anymore.”

Jongdae’s blood turned cold, and he pushed himself up off of Sehun’s lap and stood, running his fingers through his hair. He paced around the dim room as he tried to process what Sehun had told him. 

“Jongdae…” Sehun tried to say, reaching out for him. 

Jongdae only shook his head and continued pacing. Sehun dropped his head and hid his face in his hands. 

Jongdae stood still for a moment, putting his hands on his hips as he stared up at the ceiling. There were no stars above, no blue sky. Nothing but an abyss. He felt tears sting his eyes, and he almost laughed at himself. He’d cry over something like this? It wasn’t like he had spent the last months counting down the time until they’d meet again. It wasn’t like he was almost begging for Sehun to come home, to come back to him. It wasn’t like Jongdae had believed in a future that wouldn’t happen. Right?

“When were you going to tell me?” Jongdae said at last, turning to Sehun. 

Sehun slowly lifted his head to look at him. He opened his mouth, but nothing sounded, so Jongdae continued speaking.

“When did you know?” Jongdae asked, taking a step closer. 

“Two months ago,” Sehun admitted. 

“Two months…” Jongdae said, shaking his head, “When were you going to tell me?”

“Jongdae…” Sehun said in a small voice, but Jongdae wasn’t finished. 

“Were you ever going to tell me? Or was I waiting for the end of the year like a fool? Was I waiting for something that wouldn’t happen? Someone who wasn’t coming back?” Jongdae said, struggling to keep his voice soft. 

“Tonight,” Sehun said, his voice cracking halfway through the syllables. Jongdae’s frustration deflated, and he worried if his voice was too loud, if he was too harsh, if he was overreacting. 

“Tonight,” Sehun tried again, before he looked away “At dinner. I tried to tell you tonight, but I couldn’t.” 

“Let me guess,” Jongdae flatly said, “Your manager—”

“My manager,” Sehun nodded. Jongdae considered picking up a pillow to scream into. “He’s filled my schedule and booked me for the next six months. I don’t know when I’ll have another break again.”

What was there to do when the future Jongdae had been thinking about…the future he had been planning for so long fell apart? Destroyed by one present moment? Jongdae swallowed the disappointment and took a deep breath. And tried something else. 

He strode back towards Sehun, sank into the seat next to him, and took his hand. 

“Come back to Seoul,” Jongdae pleaded, “ _Please_.”   

He waited for Sehun to say something, but when he only heard silence, he continued.    

“Come back with me, Sehun,” Jongdae said, a little louder, holding his hand a little tighter, “Just take a break. You’ve been working so hard, so rest for once. See all the Seoul skies you want.” 

“I do want to come back,” Sehun hoarsely said, and now it was his turn to look upwards, trying to see stars but only seeing a blurry abyss, “but my job…my manager. He said that—” 

“Stop listening to your manager,” Jongdae said, “Say no for once. What do _you_ want?” 

“I want…” Sehun said. Then he pressed his lips together and shook his head. Jongdae waited for him to say something. Say everything he wanted. 

Sunsets. 

Skies. 

Stars. 

And if Jongdae were lucky, and if this were a dream, then maybe Sehun would say he wanted him, too. But this wasn’t a dream, and Jongdae took a shaky breath as he heard Sehun speak. 

“What I want is irrelevant,” Sehun said, “even though you should know by now what I want. Who I want.” 

He leaned closer, but Jongdae turned away. 

“We can’t keep playing these games, Sehun,” Jongdae said, raising a hand out to stop him from getting closer, “We can’t keep assuming what the other feels. I don’t want to keep guessing what you’re feeling, what you want to do. Tell me or don’t. Come back or don’t. Love me. Or don’t.” 

Whatever composure Sehun had left crumpled, and he swiped at his cheek with the back of his hand before he tried to speak again. 

“Jongdae,” Sehun said, “I’m sorry if I haven’t made myself clear. But I like you. From the first moment we met, and all the moments until now. Always. I want to wake up to the same sunrises with you, fall asleep under the same moon. But...” 

He threw his hands up in the air before hiding his face in his hands. Jongdae’s heart sank to the bottom of his chest, and he reached out and placed a hand on Sehun’s back when he saw his shoulders shake. 

He understood. 

But work. 

But this distance. 

But these times. 

“I feel the same,” Jongdae said, his voice softening, “I want to spend my days with you face to face, not just through the screen of a phone. I want to roll over in bed and talk to you instead of picking up my phone and hoping you’re still awake when I am.” 

Jongdae had imagined a moment like this. A moment when both of them revealed what they hid in their hearts to each other at last and said what they needed to say. It was supposed to have more reassurance than doubt, more smiles than tears. And it wasn’t supposed to be like this. 

“Then what do we do?” Sehun said. He lifted his fingers from his face and took another shaky breath, “What do we do when we keep chasing each other…like the sun chases the moon? Like the moon chases the sun?”

If Jongdae had the capacity to be positive, he’d tell Sehun that they’d meet at dawn or dusk, in the little moments when they could. Because that was what they had been doing already. But Jongdae wasn’t positive, and he couldn’t see the moon even if it was right in front of him. 

He didn’t know what else to do, all the words taken from him, all the songs in his heart silenced, but he stood up and crossed the room to sit in the couch that faced the window. A moment later, Sehun sank down beside him. 

“Let’s have this moment then,” Jongdae said. If there was enough light in the room, he could’ve seen how the tears on his cheek mirrored the ones on Sehun’s, how the pain in his heart mirrored the ache in Sehun’s, how the tired love was all the same…same despite it all. “Since we don’t know when the next one will be.” 

He didn’t voice what his heart cried out. 

If there’s even a next. 

They sat there in silence, watching the sky, unable to find the moon or the stars on such a cloudy night. Maybe if the mood was better, Jongdae would have held Sehun’s hand and leaned on his shoulder. Maybe he would’ve sung Sehun to sleep. 

But this was not the time. 

They kept their hands near anyways, their fingers barely touching. So close, but not. Almost touching, but not. 

They sat there side by side, wasting the moments they had left in silence. As time passed, the sky lightened and the sun threatened to break free from the clouds at any second. Before, Jongdae was worried he’d miss his flight back because he’d have to wake up before dawn. If only he knew all he’d have to do now was get up from this couch and grab his bag he hadn’t even bothered to unpack. 

Jongdae stood, hovering over Sehun who still watched the sky with a blank look. He’d ask one more time before leaving because he couldn’t give up. He couldn’t give him up. Even when he looked at Sehun and didn’t find the future anymore.

“It’s not too late if you want to go back,” Jongdae said. He stared at Sehun like he stared at the moon. Wistfully, wondering if it was as lonely as he was on quiet nights. 

Back home. 

Back with him. 

“I’m sorry, Jongdae,” Sehun said, turning to take one last look. He stared at Jongdae like he stared at the sun. As long as he could before he was forced to look away and blink blinding stars from his vision. 

But for Jongdae, whose heart was still in Paris, he could only say this.

“Adieu.” 

Adieu to you, too.

 

ϟ 

 

The Hong Kong job seemed to have led to more opportunities for both Jongdae and Sehun. It was no surprise to anyone that even more brands and magazines fought over the chance to book Sehun. Jongdae saw articles and interviews about him every time he opened his social media, so he could already imagine what type of a schedule Sehun’s manager was planning for him. 

The producer and crew of the photoshoot were all impressed with Jongdae, praising his work ethic, his ability to start a last-minute job well, and his efficiency. Jongdae could make no reassurances that he would be able to mimic that same efficiency with any other model who was not Sehun, but word still spread about his skills, and he found himself with more job offers, both freelance and work related. Jessica was pleased, always telling anyone who would listen that it was about time everyone else had seen what she had always seen in him. 

Jongdae should have been happy with the way their careers were flourishing, but with both of them busier than ever, the few text messages they did send to each other decreased.

They had apologized to each other three days after Hong Kong for that night, but nothing had been solved. Neither dared to talk about it again, but the unmistakable issue of what to do after that, where to go from here manifested in pointed conversations. It seemed they were more honest about everything but their relationship. 

 _My day was the same. Woke up too early. Went to work. Got invited to parties that I skipped._ Jongdae told Sehun when he was asked about his day.

 _You should have gone. You should’ve said yes._

_Anyways how was your day?_

_All of this week’s castings piled up, so I’ve been tired. Sleepy. But I can’t sleep._

_You should’ve told your manager to cancel even one casting. You should’ve said no._  

And that was where they’d end for the day. Between a yes and a no. 

As if Jongdae could not feel any worse about everything, the video calls stopped. The text messages decreased day by day. Sometimes they went days without speaking. And worse of all, Jongdae found himself losing the energy to instantly respond to all the messages he did receive.

“Why don’t you ghost him?” Baekhyun suggested at dinner one night. He had attempted to start a conversation about Jongdae’s job, his own job, and their plans for tomorrow before he had realized he would get nowhere If he didn’t ask about Sehun first after seeing Jongdae mope and pick at his food.  

Hypothetically, Jongdae could block Sehun's number and never have to deal with him again. It'd be easy. 

"But I still like him, Baekhyun," Jongdae said, picking up the pair of tongs on the table to push another plate of meat onto the grill. "If it weren't for the distance between us, then we would have been able to figure what to do with each other." 

"Well, you've got to do something," Baekhyun said, "Relationships can't be built on one-sided waiting, one-sided sacrifice. If you dropped your job and canceled your plans to see him in Hong Kong, then why can't he drop a job and see you, too? He can definitely afford canceling a gig like...look at him. He looks like he's dripping in money." 

Jongdae muttered something under his breath, focusing on flipping the meat on the grill before one side could burn. And before he knew it, he found himself making the same excuses for Sehun that he thought Sehun always made for himself.

"His manager won't let him take a break," Jongdae said, "He'd come back if he could, but his manager makes all of his schedules without telling him." 

"So what?" Baekhyun said, snatching the tongs from Jongdae to flip the meat over more quickly.  "He's not five years old. He can make his own decisions. That's not a good sign, Jongdae." 

"So you're saying that's just his excuse," Jongdae said, glumly watching a tiny piece of meat burn in the edge of the grill, "That he doesn't actually want to see me, doesn't want to be serious. That he's using his manager as an excuse to hide behind his true intentions." 

"I don't know," Baekhyun shrugged, picking up a few slices of meat and dropping them on Jongdae's plate, "Do I look like a top model that every brand fights over? Wait....wrong comparison since yes I fucking do...Anyways...But I think you'd know if he was serious or not, if he actually cared or not. Does he still send you those flowers?"

"Yeah," Jongdae said, recalling all the irises that laid around his house. He didn’t have the heart to throw away such beautiful flowers, so he begrudgingly carried them inside wherever he found them by his door. And he couldn’t even consider returning the favor, as Sehun never told him where he was anymore. "But he's probably got a subscription to the florist, so it autosends without him knowing." 

"I doubt that," Baekhyun said, "if all the letters are different. Maybe he really does care...But if he's still running around the world doing who knows what, then things will always be the same." 

"The same?" Jongdae asked. He watched Baekhyun eat for a few moments, reluctant to touch any of his own food for now. 

"Yeah. Obviously you wouldn't follow him around the world everywhere," he said, frowning when he saw the look on Jongdae's face, " _shouldn't_. You _shouldn't_ follow him everywhere, Jongdae. Really, the only option is for him to come home or..."

He trailed off, stuffing a big piece of meat in his mouth and chewing to excuse himself from continuing to speak. 

"Or what?" Jongdae pried. 

Baekhyun only folded two slices of meat into a piece of lettuce in response. 

"Or _what_?" Jongdae said a little more forcefully. Baekhyun shoved the entire wrap into his mouth, his cheeks puffing out as he chewed. Jongdae shook his head, finally picking up his chopsticks and taking a small bite of his food. 

"One," Baekhyun said after he swallowed, raising a finger in the air, "I find him in whatever corner of the world he's hiding in and tell him to meet me at the nearest parking lot so I can beat his ass."

Jongdae laughed despite the situation, imagining them running around in circles. Sehun would raise his hands up and insist he didn't want to hurt Baekhyun, who wouldn't care and throw punches and kicks that would always miss. 

"Two," Baekhyun continued, raising another finger in the air, "You persuade him to come home, and he does...for at least a month so you two can really see if whatever you have is real." 

“All right,” Jongdae said, “So I just have to persuade him, and—”

"Or three," Baekhyun cut him off, gravely raising a third finger in the air, "You end it."

 

ϟ

 

Jongdae considered it. 

He wasn’t cruel enough to end things through a text, so he would have to video call Sehun. But what if he hesitated the second he saw Sehun’s face? What if he took back everything if he heard Sehun’s voice wobble? 

Something like this required decisiveness, which Jongdae really couldn’t muster. Jongdae was the type of person who never forgave exes, who never spoke to anyone after snipping ties. So if he ended things with Sehun, then he’d never speak to him again. 

They were either together or not. 

Speaking or not. 

In love or not. 

Nothing was as black and white as that, but this was just how Jongdae dealt with things. 

At the very least, he planned a talk with Sehun to at least discuss what they should do, to voice some of his many concerns. He added it to his calendar on a very specific date. Friday. He could do it after work and have Saturday and Sunday to cry or celebrate depending on what they’d say. But of course after dreading it all week, Jongdae canceled that plan and decided to try another day. And when that day came, he changed his mind. 

Sehun was the only person who could make Jongdae drop his plans in seconds after all. 

“Don’t do this to yourself, Jongdae,” Baekhyun said. He had visited Jongdae to cheer him up, but no matter what he said, Jongdae still let out dramatic sighs every now and then and moped. “Just end it and make things easier for yourself. You two keep stringing each other along, and if you’re not talking, then that means th—” 

“Let's not talk about him," Jongdae waved Baekhyun aside, "I'm sure it'll sort itself out later." 

"Later?" Baekhyun said, "You told me you’ve literally planned to talk to him three times, but you never did. You need to do it soon, Jongdae. Don’t keep living like this." 

"And what if I don't?" Jongdae said. 

"Then that means both of you don't have enough mutual respect to at least let each other go," Baekhyun shook his head. 

"Or we're clinging too hard on something that we'll never have again," Jongdae admitted. Maybe they were holding onto Paris, hoping that now could look like then.   

Baekhyun studied him for a moment, searching for something Jongdae didn’t know. After another moment, he snapped his fingers and scooted closer to Jongdae. 

“You know what,” Baekhyun said, snatching Jongdae’s phone off the table. Before Jongdae could say anything, Baekhyun had scrolled through his contacts and facetimed Sehun. It had been a mistake to tell Baekhyun his password. “Do it now, Jongdae.” 

Baekhyun hastily dropped the phone back into Jongdae’s lap, and as the phone rang, Jongdae let out a series of loud curses. Baekhyun sprinted away, escaping into Jongdae’s room and slamming the door behind him. Jongdae was about to stand up and fight before the call connected after five rings. 

"Jongdae?" Sehun spoke. His voice caused Jongdae to forget about strangling Baekhyun, and he turned the volume up to listen to Sehun more clearly.   

"Sehun," Jongdae said, cutting straight to the point because Baekhyun was right, "Are we done?" 

Sehun clearly had not expected him to say that, his eyes widening and his mouth dropping slightly open. He swallowed and took a deep breath. Jongdae regretted the concision of his words for a second, but he could not take them back now. 

"If that's what you want," Sehun said, struggling to keep his expression from breaking. 

"What do you want?" Jongdae asked, "Don't you have any idea what you want to do without your manager telling you?"

"I want you," Sehun blurted out, "I want _you,_ Jongdae. But it's not fair to make you wait." 

"I can wait," Jongdae stubbornly shook his head. He looked up to find the door of his room open just a sliver and lowered his voice. "I've been waiting. I have no problem with waiting. But how much longer are you going to be flying around the world? When are you coming home? Be honest and give me a real date." 

He could wait years if he had to, but he would not and could not bear the burden of waiting for an indefinite amount of time. Someday would not be good enough. One day was even crueler. Jongdae wanted a specific month. A day he could put into his calendar. 

Sehun rubbed his face with his free hand, letting out a hysterical laugh even though there was nothing either of them could find funny in this moment.

"I...I don't know," Sehun admitted, unable to look Jongdae in the eyes, "I really don't know. My manager controls my schedules, and I—" 

"Fuck your manager," Jongdae curtly said, "Listen to your own self. Shouldn't you be able to say yes or no to whatever jobs you want to do? The breaks you want to have? If you wanted to say yes to me, then why couldn’t you tell him no?" 

Sehun closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

"He just wants the best for me, Jongdae," Sehun said, keeping his eyes closed, "He's been with me since I was young, and I don't know where I'd be without him." 

"Sehun" Jongdae said, a little gentler. The tone of his voice caused Sehun’s eyes to flutter open. 

"You really need to rest,” Jongdae continued. He considered pointing out Sehun’s dark circles but decided against it. “A month minimum. Maybe even a week if you really can't take a long break. There's only so much you can work, Sehun. Go home. Take a rest. Please... _Please_." 

"My manager says that if I take a rest or a break in this industry for too long, they'll forget about me," Sehun said, sounding like he was reciting lines from a past conversation. 

If Jongdae had to hear the words _my manager says that_ then he'd really throw something across the room. Anything at all...A pillow, a book. His heart even. 

"Sehun, that's fu—" Jongdae tried to say. 

"And if they forget me, then I can't book any jobs, I can't walk any shows, and I won't land magazine covers. Then all this hard work will be for nothing. Then—" Sehun said, holding out a finger for every condition. 

"I don't get it," Jongdae said, not sure what else he could say to help Sehun realize, "Everyone loves you. So you really think that brands are going to drop you and magazines will forget you if you take a day off? A week off? A month off? Maybe you're just afraid of letting go of someone even if they're only dragging you down." 

"That's not it at all," Sehun raised his voice in protest, "My manager was nice. He used to let me pick my schedules, and it's just been last year and this year that he's been stricter.” 

"You know," Jongdae said, as gently as he could, "You can have good memories with someone and still recognize that you would be happier without them now." 

"I should sleep," Sehun abruptly said, causing Jongdae to regret his choice of words, "My manager says I'll be ugly if I don't sleep enough. Then I can't do my photoshoots. Then I'll be jobless. Good afternoon, Jongdae. I hope you have a good day today." 

Without giving Jongdae a chance to even respond, Sehun hung up, leaving Jongdae staring at a black screen. 

That final stricken look on Sehun's face haunted him.

 

 

Neither of them had the heart to talk much after that. The sparse texts grew sparser, and the day’s hours grew longer without each other to talk to. 

And eventually, they stopped talking. 

Jongdae’s mood plummeted, and though he never wanted to bring personal problems into his work, he only spoke when spoken to, muttered under his breath that he worked with absolute fools when delays or mistakes happened on set, and snapped at anyone who even stepped near his shot. Of course his work never declined, and anyone watching from the outside would have thought that he was fine. Nothing was wrong. He was only having a bad day. 

But Jessica, who noticed everything, called Jongdae into her office after one bad day turned into twenty. 

"Jongdae, are you okay?" she asked. 

"Yeah," Jongdae said. He was just being dramatic. There was nothing to overanalyze if there weren’t any text messages, nothing to cry over if there was only silence. Nothing at all.   

"You don't look fine," she said.

"Well, I am," Jongdae curtly said before Jessica could try and tell him he looked worse than usual. 

They stared at one antother, both waiting for the other to dare to say something else. But Jongdae didn’t want to talk about it, so he conceded and spoke first.

“I’m going to go,” Jongdae asked, “if that’s all.”

“No,” Jessica said, “What are your plans for next week? I know you’ve got a free schedule.” 

“I don’t know,” Jongdae shrugged. For the first time, he didn’t know. He had nothing planned, nothing at all but gaps in his calendar. And he didn’t care.

“Then come with me to Cannes,” Jessica said,

Jongdae paused as he considered Jessica’s offer. He thought it was kind of her until he remembered that she rarely took work breaks.

“As a tourist or as a photographer?” Jongdae asked suspiciously.

“All tourists are photographers,” Jessica said, “But not all photographers are on the same break as you, Jongdae. So don’t worry. I’ve already asked someone else to cover what would’ve been your job. Just go for yourself and relax.”

“It’s too close to Paris,” Jongdae said with a jerk of his head. He looked away, already anticipating Jessica’s searching gaze. 

“Look at a map, Jongdae. I’s far enough,” Jessica said after a pause, “We’re going to the south of France, and the company is flying you out.”

Realistically, all Jongdae was going to do on his break was mope alone in his room until he fell asleep, so at least if he went with Jessica, he could mope alone in a foreign city until he fell asleep. 

"Fine," he said, "When do we leave?"

"Tomorrow," Jessica said, standing up from her desk, "But if you come to the terminal looking like that, then we'll leave without you."

 

ϟ

 

Jongdae didn’t know what he had expected. He had thought that he could have spent some time alone exploring the city, visiting some scenic places, and trying new restaurants at Cannes. But once he was there, Jongdae was forced to accompany Jessica to every fashion show she attended. He didn’t even feel like her respectable date, but rather her personal assistant.  

“Hold my bag,” Jessica said once they arrived into the hotel lobby, already striding towards the front desk to check in for them. 

But one bag became twenty after the hotel ran out of available luggage carts, as they were struggling to accommodate the large influx of guess who were here for the same reason they were. Everyone from models to managers was crowded around the lobby, causing Jongdae to drag all the luggage behind a column to hide. He was scared that he’d accidentally look to his left and see Sehun out of nowhere, and after nearly a month of silence, he wouldn’t know how to react if he saw him face to face. 

“Hold my bag,” Jessica said thirty minutes before her own fashion show the next day. Today she wore a white suit she had designed herself and pointed heels that clicked against the floor as she headed backstage to make sure preparations were going smoothly. 

Jongdae, anticipating the heavy thump of the bag, reflexively positioned his arms to catch it. Without Jessica to hide behind, Jongdae felt exposed, glancing warily at all the cameras and guests that were trickling into the main room. If Sehun was here, he didn't know what he'd do. But that was silly since Sehun was Louis Vuitton’s model, and he had made it clear to Jessica that he would not step foot anywhere near their event. 

Jessica’s show went smoothly, her sleek, chic designs impressing everyone who had attended. At the end, she gave a short speech, thanking everyone she worked with. Jongdae felt himself smile when she called his name even if his arms were screaming in protest after holding her heavy bag for so long. 

“Hold my bag,” Jessica said when they arrived at Elie Saab’s show the day after that. Today, she wore a glistening yellow dress that she paired with an emerald cape embroidered with golden dragons. Jongdae watched her pose for a flock of cameras.

“Solo shots first,” she said before beckoning Jongdae to join her now.

Jongdae stood next to Jessica, realizing for another time how he preferred standing on the other side of the camera. He forced himself to keep his eyes open even after all the flashes, and he wondered how Sehun and other models did it. How they continually posed for blinding shots without losing their vision or blinking. 

“Hold my bag,” she said once they were inside Gucci’s venue the afternoon after that. Today, she wore a blue dress with wispy, sheer skirts that parted to reveal multi-colored fabric flowers that could have passed for fresh ones. She posed with another guest for a picture. 

“Jongdae,” she said afterwards, only calling him over now, “This is Kim Jongin, a model.” 

Jongdae shook the young man’s hand, finding it unfair models were all both stunning and taller than him.

“Jongin, this is Kim Jongdae, my best photographer,” Jessica said. 

“Oh. Jongdae?” Jongin said, raising his eyebrows slightly, “Do you know Oh Sehun by any chance? He talks about a Jongdae all the time.” 

Jongdae froze, feeling his heart drop out of the chest. 

“I’m going to find our seats,” Jongdae managed, brushing past them to escape into the crowd. He found empty seats in the back row and sat down. Around him, guests continued to enter the room, mingling with each other, posing for photographs. Jongdae blankly stared at everything but processed nothing. A minute later, someone sat down beside him. Jongdae didn’t have to turn to know it was Jessica. 

She didn’t say anything, only sat there beside him, waiting for him to speak, for him to explain. She hadn’t said anything when Jongdae had asked her not to take him to the Louis Vuitton event, hadn’t even questioned him when he stayed silent after she asked if he would meet Sehun in the city. But she probably could guess, especially after what had happened. 

“I didn’t plan to fall in love that fast,” Jongdae quietly said after a while, “I never expected that. I never expected him.” 

“Oh, Jongdae,” Jessica said, reaching over to squeeze his shoulder, “You can arrange dates, plan to meet someone anywhere. But you can’t schedule love. Of course you never expected it to happen. You don’t wake up one morning and think that you’ll fall in love with someone today. It just happens, and there’s nothing you can do except hold on for the ride.” 

“So what now?” Jongdae said. Around them, the lights flashed on and off three times, signaling that the start of the show was soon, “How do I stop it?” 

“Give it time and distance,” Jessica said. 

But how was that supposed to work if all they had before was only time and distance? 

“Distract yourself with everything. Meet new people,” Jessica continued, “There’s an after party tonight. Will you come?” 

“Yeah,” Jongdae said without hesitating, “I’ll be there.” 

“Good. Now come,” Jessica said as she stood up, “Why would we sit here if we have seats in the front?” 

After the fashion show, Jessica’s driver drove them to the after party. Jongdae, usually the one who chattered to Jessica, listened in silence as she wove a one-sided conversation in an obvious attempt to cheer him up as he nodded or shook his head. 

At the party, Jessica announced she'd fetch Jongdae a drink because he looked like he needed twenty.

“Do you have any requests?” she asked. 

“Not champagne,” Jongdae said, thinking of how someone had dropped raspberries into a glass full of that ages ago.  

With that, she touched his shoulder and disappeared, causing the guests’ heads to turn and call for her. 

Jongdae made his way to the window, not in the mood for socializing. There, he shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at the sky, its darkening horizon, and the first stars that had begun to twinkle for the night. He wondered if Sehun was across the town somewhere, alone in his hotel room or in a networking party, watching the same skies as Jongdae. Was he encouraging the moon to peek out of the clouds? Was he considering if this was one of his top ten skies of all time? 

Jongdae suddenly looked to his left, feeling as if he had caught someone staring. But everyone to the left side of the room had their lips on a champagne glass, lips on another person, or lips pressed together in the hopes of avoiding conversation. Across the room, he saw Jessica holding a lively conversation with important looking people before he looked to his right. 

Jongdae’s lips slightly parted as he recognized. 

There, a few meters to his left stood Sehun by the same window staring at him quietly. Black. His hair was black. He must've dyed it again sometime ago. Out of nowhere, Jongdae’s heart jolted to life, stammering against his chest, and all at once, he was struck with the crushing blow of longing. 

For a few seconds, they only looked at each other, deaf to the wandering melody played on some piano. God, was there any time when Sehun wasn’t beautiful? When his lips didn’t look so pink? When he didn’t look like he had stolen all the stars from the sky and hid them in his eyes?

Jongdae used to wonder what it would be like to love someone as beautiful as that, and no matter what had happened in the past, he realized he didn’t have to wonder anymore. He realized that he still found in Sehun what he had seen when he first saw him in Paris under the painted sky by the glass pyramids of the Louvre. 

Future at first sight. 

He felt his feet move on their own, his heart beat on its own, and before he knew it, he was standing right in front of Sehun.

“Are you a model?” Sehun asked him after a pause, “I thought I’d met everyone already, but then I saw you.” 

“I’m too short for that,” Jongdae said out of reflex. 

“You’re too beautiful for it. There’d be no competition if you walked next to them,” Sehun said, a slight smile beginning to lift up his lips. Despite his hesitation, Jongdae found himself smiling, too. 

“What’s your name?” Jongdae asked. 

“That’s a secret,” Sehun said, leaning in to whisper. 

“That’s not fair,” Jongdae said, earning a shrug from Sehun. It was too easy to fall back on old habits, but all of this felt so easy, like no time had passed at all between them.   

“If you stay close I’m sure you’ll figure it out eventually,’ Sehun said.

“How close?” Jongdae asked. 

“Closer than this,” Sehun said, taking a few steps back. But Jongdae didn’t follow him, didn’t close the distance and stayed in place. He paused for a moment before shifting the conversation.

“I said yes to an invitation for once,” Jongdae said, “That’s why I’m here.” 

“Good,” Sehun nodded. When Jongdae stayed in place, Sehun walked back, standing closer to him this time.  “I’m proud of you. Are you having a good time?” 

“That depends,” Jongdae said, keeping his eyes only on Sehun even after the crowd roared for some reason behind them, “Are you?” 

“Yes. Because you’re here,” Sehun said. He swallowed and lowered his voice, “I’m sorry, Jongdae. For…just everything.” 

“I’m sorry, too,” Jongdae said, “I probably overreacted and caused y—” 

“No,” Sehun shook his head, “This one’s on me.” 

“No, it’s me,” Jongdae said, “I’ll fight you on that.” 

“Then let’s talk about it,” Sehun said, “Loser has to let the winner pay for their meal.” 

“For how long?” Jongdae asked.

“For life,” Sehun said. 

But that was such a vague amount of time. Jongdae would have preferred knowing if the terms lasted for a day, a month, or a year.   

“Let’s get out of here,” Jongdae said anyways. 

They silently walked side by side, neither daring to reach for the other’s hand. But as they squeezed past a group of people, Sehun placed his hand on Jongdae’s lower back to guide him. Never once did Jongdae tell him to stop touching him.

 

ϟ

 

Thirty minutes later, Sehun brought Jongdae to his hotel room and led him to the bed. 

“I’m cutting straight to it,” Sehun said as they both sat down on the edge of the bed, “No guesses, no assumptions. No Paris games.” 

“Before you do that,” Jongdae said, “I’m sorry.” 

Sehun blinked. 

“Excuse me I was about to say that,” Sehun said. 

The corners of Jongdae’s lips curled up. 

“Well, since I already started, let me finish,” Jongdae said before scooting closer, “I’m sorry I wasn’t more understanding. I should’ve thought about all the stress you’re under, how exhausted you feel every time you travel. I should’ve understood more, and because you’re important to me, I should’ve been more patient.” 

Instead of almost letting him go. 

“But…that’s the problem,” Sehun said, running a hand through his hair. Jongdae wanted to know who was his stylist and what hair products were they using because Sehun’s hair still looked flawless. 

“I’ve put so many things before you, and I’m sorry about that,” Sehun continued, “You’re important to me, so I should’ve said no to my manager. I should’ve canceled everything and flown home right after Paris with you.” 

“Your career is important. I understand,” Jongdae said, repressing the desire to reach out and rub Sehun’s back.   

“What’s the point if I’m so tired after every job?” Sehun shook his head, “But really, there were a lot of reasons to go home before I met you in Paris, reasons to question why my manager started acting like that a few years ago, reasons why I let him choose my life for me instead of seizing it myself. But I’ve never thought about any of that until I met you, until you became the most important reason for me to send myself back. I look at you and think that’s who I want to spend tomorrow with, who I want to watch the skies with, who I want to live with…Do you feel the same?” 

Jongdae’s eyes had widened, and his breath hitched in his throat. 

“Yes,” Jongdae said, placing his hand on Sehun’s, “Yes, I do.” 

Sehun let out a sigh and smiled, the doubt lifting from his shoulders. 

“I should have kissed you in Paris under that sky you love,” Sehun admitted, lacing his fingers through Jongdae’s, “Maybe I thought it was too soon since we hadn’t known each other for long, but—” 

“And I should have kissed you in Los Angeles,” Jongdae said, dragging his thumb over Sehun’s skin. This had to be a dream. “On the bench at the beach pier where you called me.” 

“How would you have done that?” Sehun laughed. 

“I would have flown you out myself,” Jongdae said, “and dragged you away from your manager so I could take you to the beach and show you the painting of irises that hangs in their museum.”

Sehun leaned back and stared at the ceiling.                                  

“I should have kissed you in Hong Kong,” he said, “under the night sky or in the studio in front of everyone or when we were together. I shouldn’t have let you leave alone.” 

“That’s the past, so we’ll leave it there,” Jongdae said, already thinking of all the kisses he could sneak in their future.   

Jongdae would kiss Sehun in the morning when he woke up, when they made breakfast together while their hair was both messy from sleep. He’d kiss him in the lazy afternoons while they’d curl up together for another nap. Then he’d kiss him at the river when they watched the sun set for the day and the moon rise. And he’d kiss him once more, twice more, as many times as he’d like before they slept again for the night under the same stars and the same clock.

But then he realized.

There he was dreaming of a future that might not even happen. What if Sehun could only spend one, maybe two more days here? He could leave tomorrow and things would be the same, return to how they were a month ago. 

Jongdae suddenly squeezed Sehun’s hand tighter, as if to silently ask him to stay. Please, just this once _stay_.

As if noticing what Jongdae was thinking, Sehun sat closer, so close that Jongdae could see a constellation of light freckles on his cheeks. It would be so easy to kiss him right now, right here. 

“Jongdae,” Sehun softly said, “I want to wake up to the same sun and fall asleep to the same moon as you. No more chasing dawn and dusk, no more staying up late or waking up early for each other.” 

“What are you trying to say?” Jongdae said, dropping his gaze for a moment to admire Sehun’s lips. 

“What I’m saying,” Sehun said, “is that I’m taking a break from work.” 

Jongdae said nothing, only felt his heart accelerate faster and faster in his chest as he waited for the rest of whatever Sehun wanted to say. 

“What about your manager?” Jongdae asked. 

“Fuck my manager,” Sehun announced, “I fired him.” 

Jongdae blinked.

“That’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me,” he said, wanting to grab Sehun’s face and kiss his cheek a thousand times. 

Sehun laughed, flopping on the bed with his arms spread out. Jongdae laid down beside him and fondly watched Sehun continue to smile. 

“And during my break,” Sehun said, turning on his side to look at Jongdae, “let’s travel together. You can take me back to Los Angeles, and I can take you back to Italy. And who knows where else we’ll go?” 

The way he looked at Jongdae made him hope that he looked at Sehun with the same amount of love that Sehun had shown him. 

“Let’s do it,” Jongdae said, not even once thinking of work. 

“I want to spend a few months here in Seoul with you first,” Sehun said, “or a few years. Whatever works best for you. That is…if you would like me to stay with you?” 

Jongdae reached out to brush away the bangs that had fallen on Sehun’s eyes before touching Sehun’s face. 

Let’s say they did stay in the same place and time for once. Maybe try that and find out that they were not meant to stay together for long periods of time. Maybe they just wouldn’t work out. Maybe they were always destined to miss each other, like the sun missed the moon every time they traded places in the sky. Maybe at the end of all of this, they’d still walk away from each other. 

But how could Jongdae not at least try? At least give themselves a chance, something he’d wanted so much he could die? Jongdae hadn’t planned on Sehun, hadn’t planned on any of this at all. But he saw Sehun in his past, his future, so the only thing he could say now in this very moment was this. 

“Of course I’d love that,” Jongdae nodded, “Stay. Stay as long as you can, whether that’s a month or a year or forever.” 

With that, he leaned forwards and kissed Sehun, finally understanding how soft Sehun’s lips were. He felt Sehun’s hand slip around his waist to pull him closer, so close that there was no distance left between them at all. 

Jongdae didn’t taste tomorrow like he had thought he’d taste on Sehun’s lips, but instead he tasted promise, he tasted love, and he tasted bliss.

 

ϟ

 

They met in Paris three years later, standing in front of each other while the sky looked like someone gently swept a brush across it with blue paint and splattered it with flecks of dusty pink. It was neither morning nor the evening, but rather the golden hour between day and night where the sun and moon each hung in the sky, greeting each other for a present moment before separating. 

Their family and closest friends sat to their left in rows of white chairs. Jessica sat in the front beside Jongdae’s family, pushing a pair of big sunglasses on her face to hide her expression. Maybe she was crying, or maybe the light was too bright. Nonetheless, she had a brilliant smile on her face, the biggest smile Jongdae had ever seen from her. 

Baekhyun stood three feet behind him, probably bouncing on his toes as he witnessed what was happening. And behind Baekhyun stood three of Jongdae’s other closest friends dressed in the same suit and blue ties. 

There were irises strewn along the path that they had walked through moments ago. Irises woven into the ribbon that hung off the backs of the chairs. Irises in the floral arrangements placed around the space. Irises pinned to Jongdae’s and Sehun’s suit jacket lapels. 

But it wasn’t as if Jongdae noticed any of them, anything at all. All he could do was gaze at Sehun who stood right in front of him. Sehun with his hair styled beautifully, his cheeks rosy pink, his smile soft. Little lights hung above their heads, but the only lights Jongdae saw were the stars in Sehun’s eyes, the sun in his smile, and the moon in his heart. 

Jongdae clutched Sehun’s hands tightly, marveling at how lucky he was to share this moment with him. Of all the past years and future days to come, he’d remember this moment, this now forever. 

“Jongdae,” Sehun whispered as he swung their hands together, “Are you listening? It’s your turn now.” 

Jongdae jolted out of his daze. Oh. His turn to speak already? He cleared his throat, and though he wanted nothing more than to leap forwards and relish in what tomorrow tasted like when he kissed Sehun, he took his time to answer. For a moment, his attention drifted to their clasped hands, their rings glimmering on their fingers. Rings they had just put on each other minutes ago. 

Breathed. 

And loved. 

“With all my heart,” Jongdae smiled, “I do.”

 

 


End file.
